The 'g' in god
by Konnie-chan
Summary: A rewrite of the Hades chapter as I'd liked it to be. Not even close to a romance, though there are pairings included, shounen ai and het alike.
1. Preface Awakening

_**Saint Seiya is property of Masami Kurumada and Toei Animation, and I'm neither**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**PREFACE**

**AWAKENING**

**GENESIS**

In a time before history, when men had barely started to walk with their backs straight, a demon- a fallen angel- left the deeper pits of his hell and walked the earth amongst them. He wasn't alone. His followers, his brothers and sisters, decided to make the earth their own.

They knew the world could only be theirs if men fell under their curse, for God loved them greatly and he'd have his hands tied. To take this animal graced by the creator; these favored children and make them their own, meant to've won over the heavens. So the demons approached men; watched them for millennia waiting for their time. When it came, they taught them their ways, bribed them with graces and fire; corrupted them. So men did what was natural for them.

They made them gods.

They needed more of their own to keep their power, but they wouldn't go back to hell, where they were nothing but pawns. Pure demons, as spiritual beings they were, couldn't reproduce. For that, they needed humans. And the best amongst humans at that.

It was so that these demons had children, and those children had children of their own. They spread across earth like a pest. But God stayed in his heaven, and all was well.

Their game was their perdition, though, for soon there was a handful of pure demons walking the earth, and those who'd been born of them, tainted with humanity, didn't feel them to be useful anymore. Then, after a gruesome and ambitious battle, those children did what was natural for them.

They made themselves gods.

Men kept on growing, civilizations were formed and destroyed and formed again. And the self proclaimed gods saw that their eternal power and youth was not so. They were tainted with humanity and in turn, they were mortal.

Their humanity also made them paranoid of their own kind. So they fought and killed and slaughtered in the name of inane causes to maintain their own power. They fought each other; they brought misery and fear upon the world, and some of them perished.

Men weren't loyal children, either. They'd turned on their own God to favor these beings that were more useful to them. It was a matter of time before men turned against them as well.

The spirits of these 'gods' weren't those of humans, though. They would not lose what gave them so much power over the creator himself.

They had to come up with a plan...

**ATHENA**

Saori Kido was dying. The piercing pain provided by the golden arrow buried in her chest was a good testimony of that.

For what? She was Athena, goddess of War and Wisdom, protector of the earth. She repeated those words over and over in her mind, trying to make the pain more bearable, make sense of things. Maybe if she was convinced of that, she'd find the strength to hold on and not start whimpering like a little girl, which was exactly what she felt like doing.

She'd always known, hadn't she? Deep down, she knew there was something different about her. Even as the little brat of a girl she used to be. She'd never pictured herself going to a prestigious school, having a boyfriend, going to a prom- in spite of her very prom-like dresses. She was never meant to have a normal life.

But now she was dying. That couldn't be right. Goddesses didn't die, did they?

A memory, whispers of words said millennia ago, struck her brain. A promise upon a cursed river. She could, indeed, die; but she'd promised, alongside her brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, even her father, that death would not keep them from their task.

_'So,' _she thought to herself as the memories flooded her, as she became one with the eternal spirit of the goddess, _'Is this what it feels like?'_

_**Yes, little girl,**_ a female voice, filled with self righteousness uttered inside her head, _**You're Athena, the virgin goddess. Now it's time for you to remember**_**.**

She fought; she really did fight against all the anger and spite that invaded her being. But it was useless; all that resentment was hers. She wasn't being possessed. She wasn't using an innocent to come back to life, like her brother, Ares, most certainly had. Centuries of memories, of failures, weighed upon her and the little girl in her, as bratty as she might have been, cried.

**POSEIDON**

Julian Solo stared at the place where the sea met the heavens. The horizon wasn't more than an optical illusion. On this earth, that place didn't exist. It wasn't really there.

Now, the resentment he felt towards Saori Kido was brought to a whole new level. Now he knew what had drawn him to her in the first place. Now he knew that the optical illusion was the belief that the heavens and the sea never met. He'd been there; at that point where everything started and everything ended.

It had merely taken a pawn; one man's delusions of power and the ruler of the seas was free.

Oh, Julian knew that the spirit within him wasn't alien. It was him. He'd found himself and he'd keep the promise he'd made so long ago. Athena had betrayed that promise; she'd abused the place her father had given her. Protector of mankind? Protector of what's just and right? Maybe all those years of playing the part had finally caught up with her.

A part of him, the youngest part of him, tried to justify her. He, Julian, tried to understand the depth of the hate he felt. But his own mind was betraying him, reminding him of the treason and deceit of his niece

It was time to set things straight. Athena and her ambition of power would not stand in his way. And if humanity was doomed as an aftermath, so be it.

**HADES**

For the first time in months, Shun had time to stop and think. Sitting quietly out on the balcony of his room, the Andromeda saint did just that.

The battle was done and, again, everyone had left to nurse their wounds. Ikki had left again, God knows where, and Shun doubted even the lord in heaven had an idea of when he'd return. Shiryu was, of course, in China, with his old master. Hyoga was off somewhere in Siberia, grieving for his childhood friend. Even Seiya, who'd usually stay in Tokyo with him after each battle, had gone off to Greece to find Seika.

He was worried about them. Each of his brothers, alone. They were all alone; left to deal with all those scars that had piled up battle after battle for the last year. Why couldn't any of them see that maybe staying together they could get over it faster?

They could all understand what they were going through better than anyone. Why go their separate ways?

And yet, maybe it wasn't the same for everyone. Now that he had the time and the peace of mind to reflect on it, several alarming facts had come to his attention. Something had changed inside him during the past year.

Ever since the battle of the Sanctuary, a feeling of inevitability had invaded every walking hour of Shun's life. Ever since he found himself at hell's doors, when he'd been as good as dead and he'd felt Athena's powerful cosmo luring him back to life.

He'd held his piece since that day. Who'd believe him if he told them that it hadn't been Athena the one to bring him back? Who'd believe about that voice he'd heard, telling him it wasn't his time? And even if they did believe him, how could he tell them about that overwhelming cosmo he'd felt in the underworld? A cosmo so much like his own and yet so different, so tainted with spite and regret.

And then there had been Poseidon. From the moment he'd seen Julian Solo baring Poseidon's soul, Shun had known. Julian wasn't like Saga; Julian wasn't possessed. Julian Solo was Poseidon. Whatever was locked inside that jar at the Sanctuary, that was **not** the god of the seas.

The pull he'd felt towards the blue haired boy, a sense of recognition; Shun could not deny it. It had also presented another problem. If Saga had simply been possessed by Ares; if Julian Solo was the true incarnation of Poseidon; then what was Saori? What made her different from the other gods? Athena had been the goddess of war and wisdom and, unlike Ares, she had protected the earth. But she was still a goddess of war.

Shun could see it in her too, just as he'd seen it in Julian. Saori was Athena. But just as Julian, Saori was also just Saori. Why was it so important? Why did he have the feeling that he needed to understand what it meant to be the incarnation of a god?

The dreams were growing more frequent; a woman with haunting red eyes, a realm he knew as his own. Shun couldn't even voice the thought of what he knew was coming.

"Nii-san..." he said to no one, staring at the full moon and clutching his pendant tight.

Would Ikki understand? How much time did he have to understand it himself before fate decided to force the path upon him? Ikki had told him once, to grasp his fate. Was that even possible?

Saori had forbidden them to go to the Sanctuary, upon death to those who dared disobey. She said she wanted them to lead a normal life. Couldn't she see it was impossible? With all the power she had, couldn't she feel what was approaching?

Or maybe she did? Just as he'd been able to feel some recognition towards her and Julian, maybe she'd seen the curse on him. Maybe that was the real reason for her command. She wouldn't want one such as him on the holy place that was the Sanctuary. He still wanted nothing more than to go there and confide on his goddess; confess his fears and, should it come down to it, accept his punishment.

_**Why should you be punished?**_ The voice that spoke directly into his mind, sounding very much like his own, wasn't new. It had been there for some time now, but Shun still dreaded the moments where it made it's presence known. _**She's the one who'll be punished. You'll punish her, all of them. for their treason; for leaving you alone.**_

Shun clutched his pendant tighter, rested his back to the wall and slid to the floor.

"Not yet. Please, not yet." He closed his eyes as tears begun streaming from them, trying to keep them at bay.

_**TBC**_

_**FACTS: (Just to help out a little, ne?)**_

_**I didn't make this up. There's a protestant bible (I think Jehovah's witness', but I'm not sure) who talks about demons walking the earth. That story is consistent with Greek gods. That's why I used it. I am a religious person (in a way, which I'm not going to explain or discuss here) But I do believe everything goes at the time of writing a story. It's fiction so, if you're offended by it, I'm sorry. It's not a statement of my beliefs, or a judgment over other people's; it's just a story.**_

_**Chronos was the Titan father to the first generation of Olympians. I'm placing him as the original demon, and the other Titans, his followers. As angels can't have children, because they're purely spiritual beings, I assume that even Zeus was half human. Think about it, Greek gods are exaggerated representations of human qualities or flaws. They're rather extreme, and that would work if they'd been part human, but submitted to the definitiveness that spiritual beings have. (Angels, according to Judaism and Christianity, are not creatures who can learn or make mistakes. They're not free.- hence Lucifer being banished from heaven. He couldn't repent.)**_

_**Greek gods were eternal, but not immortal. If you managed to cut Zeus' head (though I'd love to see you try) he'd have died.**_

_**There's a mention of a cursed river. That would be is the Styx, the one you need to cross to be judged in the Underworld. You needed to pay for Charon, the ferryman to take you to the other side. But he wouldn't take you if you hadn't been buried. Every time the gods had to make a promise, they did it upon the Styx as we would upon a bible.**_


	2. Ch1 Light&Darkness

_**A/N: Ok guys, remember; this is a *re-write* of the Hades chapter. I might use some elements of the original, but what I didn't like or doesn't fit my story, I *will* ignore, ok?**_

_**And about Shun's appearance, I'm simply taking the striking difference between the anime and the Hades Ovas as Shun growing up a bit.**_

_**See first part for disclaimer.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER ONE**

**VISIONS OF LIGHT, VISIONS OF DARKNESS**

Dawn bathed the sky with soft oranges and pinks. The air had cooled off during the night and now the fresh sea breeze licked Julian's cheeks gently. The waves broke on the shore at his feet and Julian pulled the sleeping boy in his arms a little closer, in fear he would catch a cold.

He and Sorrento had stayed up all night again, just talking. At moments the younger boy would play for him, easing his mind with his beautiful tunes. He was blessed to have such an angel's love.

Julian mentally snorted at that thought. He knew about angels, alright. He knew enough to know it wasn't exactly a compliment.

Running his fingers through Sorrento's soft hair, he sighed. Julian was confused; angry and frustrated with himself, Saori and. why not, the world, and uncertain about his role in it. A part of himself was still sullen about of his defeat; now he was forced to bow his head and do as Athena said. And no; no part of him saw her point. She had to be stopped. It had been her to start the Sacred wars anyway. He'd gotten carried away by his hatred and eventually sealed his own fate. Now there was nothing he could do; he'd let her get the upper hand.

There had been a time when they'd all been on the same side. Maybe they'd never been the closest of relatives; he and Athena had always had their differences; but he used to know where he stood with her.

He couldn't exactly *blame* her. Athena had played dirty, yes. She'd used her father's knowledge to stab them all in the back and seated her big fat ass on the throne of ruler and owner of earth. But none of them had been precisely 'reliable' to begin with.

They never should have trusted Zeus in the first place. Of all of them, he'd been the worst. Of course, that's exactly why they'd chosen him as a leader. After all, it had been him the one to save them from their father's claws...or stomach, as the case may be.

He wondered what had been of his youngest brother and three sisters. They hadn't appeared 243 years ago and they weren't showing signs of appearing any time soon, either. Julian had his suspicions but, for all he knew, they were attending high school somewhere.

Julian didn't miss the good ol' days, not really. He'd been a lot more powerful then; he'd bared a body so much stronger than a human's. But now he felt freer. And at the same time, bound.

All his power came from his spirit. Athena might have locked it, restrained it until she found it useful, but he knew it only took a minor effort on his part and he could free himself again. Either she was getting careless or he was growing stronger; he didn't know for sure.

But he would not make use of that knowledge. One thing he'd learned during that disastrous battle: he'd seen humans in a different light. Both his Shoguns and Athena's saints had fought with such courage of conviction, such nobility. Ok, not *all* of them, but the few that had, had managed to change his opinion of the entire race.

After all, his love was human, wasn't he? For the first time in the near eternity of his life, he could even see himself as human.

If he were to let Athena know he was not as restrained as she thought, it would probably result in another battle. A battle where a lot of those courageous humans would die; maybe even Sorrento. And for some bizarre reason, he didn't want to shed more blood.

His thoughts turned to his remaining brother. Thinking about him brought a lump to his throat. Just as Zeus had gotten the better end of the deal, Hades had been treated like garbage. Julian couldn't remember ever feeling guilty about what had happened to his brother. And yet he did, now.

All these new feelings were very confusing and they couldn't have had a worse timing. He knew first hand that they'd drank enough water from the Lethe(*) to keep them oblivious until puberty. He also knew the seal over Hades' powers was about to break.

His minions were probably scheming to take over the Sanctuary at that very moment. Hypnos and Thanatos were never prone to slacking.

It was no wonder either; Athena could have made a stronger seal; one that wouldn't so conveniently break so close after her battle with him. But of all of them, Athena seemed to enjoy humiliating Hades the most.

Julian knew that she would use him once the battle started. She'd done so before. And he wouldn't refuse her either. No matter how sorry he felt for his sins against his own brother now, they'd driven him to madness. He wouldn't let Hades take his vengeance upon earth.

But maybe he could still do right by his brother.

He shook Sorrento gently. The boy stirred and fought against awareness for a few moments before opening his beautiful eyes. Julian gazed down at his love's face with a smile.

"Good morning." He kissed the top of Sorrento's nose, causing the boy to chuckle.

"Morning. Did we fall asleep outside again?"

"Just you. I've been here; making sure no one comes and steals you away."

Sorrento straightened up and turned around, sitting on Julian's lap, facing him. He softly kissed the older boy's lips and frowned.

"Well, if you've been up all night taking care of me, it's up to me to make breakfast, right?"

"Ok. You do that, and then we'll have a little talk. I think we're going to take a trip soon."

Sorrento blinked in confusion.

"A trip? Where?"

"Japan." Julian said simply.

He stood up, pulling Sorrento up with him. He ignored the boy's frown of confusion and made his way inside the house, Sorrento close on his toes. He made a mental note to ask him about the Andromeda saint later.

Yes. He didn't have to use his powers to beat Athena this time.

* * *

Ikki was back.

Carrying his duffel bag over his shoulder carelessly, one hand resting on his jeans' pocket, Ikki walked without much determination. His mind drifted, taking him back to the things that worried him.

As soon as his fists weren't needed anymore, he'd taken off, as usual. But this time, his absence had been cut short.

He still didn't know for sure why he found it impossible to stay in Tokyo, next to his little brother that needed him. Ikki glanced around the streets, the buildings, the night sky opaque by the exaggerated city lights, trying to come up with an answer.

He knew that city didn't hold much appeal to him. Tokyo was a city you either loved or hated, and he found himself leaning towards the latter more often than not. He didn't miss the big crowds; he'd always been a loner. He didn't miss the comforts of civilization or technology. He certainly didn't miss the Kido mansion.

But he still missed Shun, and that made all the difference.

What could be in Tokyo that repelled him so much, he didn't know. After all, most of his time away he spent at Death's Queen's Island. Certainly the place wasn't a tourist attraction; it didn't hold good memories for him either.

But maybe that was it. He was not ready to let go of the past and, as much as it hurt to acknowledge it, Shun was not as much part of his past as that island. Yes, he'd given everything up for his little brother, but he'd been, what, ten years old? Ok, so he wasn't exactly a *grown up* now, but he knew maturity had little to do with age after all he'd been through.

It was always the same. When he was in Tokyo, all he could think about was Esmeralda and his past; but when he was on that barren land of an island, all he could think about was Shun. In the end, Shun would always be there if he decided to go back; he could wait. His past always won in the end.

This time felt different, though. His thoughts about Shun hadn't been merely nostalgic. He was worried. He and his brother seem to share a special link; a union that let the other know when something wasn't quite alright. He couldn't decide if it was his imagination or not, but everything in him had told him to abandon the island and go back; that Shun needed him more than ever, even though he couldn't sense any real danger.

Now they had peace. If Athena's words held any truth, they wouldn't have to fight again. Somehow, he couldn't believe that. Peace was an illusion and it was just a matter of time before another self deluded megalomaniac decided to try and do what so many others had failed at.

_'All but Athena.'_ he thought bitterly.

He still didn't trust that woman who claimed to have his best interest at heart. Saori Kido had owned a bigger part of the world even before she took on the persona of the goddess. Now she was beyond powerful. Now she owned even all of them; their fates and souls. It wasn't Athena the one who held his loyalty, though; it never had been.

No, he wasn't loyal to Saori. He was loyal to Shun. The only reason he kept fighting was to keep his brother safe. Maybe that way he could compensate for abandoning him in every other aspect of his life. He'd die for Shun.

Ironically, the only reason his little brother had pledged himself to Athena was because of him; to see him again. If Ikki had never ended up at the Foundation, if Kido hadn't been such a son of a bitch, Shun would have never even killed a fly.

Now, because of him, Shun was probably one of the most lethal saints out there. Sure, he seemed weak, but Ikki knew better.

Ever since the battle with Poseidon and his Shoguns, Ikki had felt something stir in Shun's cosmo. Something that didn't feel at all new, but it hadn't been until that moment that he'd taken notice of it.

It was monumentally annoying the way everything in his life always came down to that. He was tired of 'cosmos' and battles; but he could not ignore it. And so, he was back. Seeing the mansion again sent shivers down his spine, but he had to know for certain.

The thought of Shun's face filled with happiness once he saw him there did make Ikki smile. For whatever reason, his little brother was still always glad to see him. He didn't understand why, but he knew he shared the sentiment. Shun was the only light of Ikki's life.

He pushed the big door open, not bothering to knock or to make his arrival known. He was almost wishing Tatsumi would appear and throw a tantrum for his arriving unannounced. He owed that bastard a few broken bones and all Ikki needed was an excuse to repay him.

But the house was empty; or so it seemed. It was more than empty; it felt dead. The mansion was as beautiful and luxurious as ever, and he even noticed that there were a few lights on upstairs. But there was something in the air that reminded Ikki of a graveyard.

Now, that wasn't a comforting thought to have about the place your brother lived in. Specially with all his recent concerns. Dumping the duffel bag at the entrance, he made a dash upstairs, to his little brother's room, taking three steps at a time.

His hurry wasn't entirely caused by worry; he couldn't wait to see Shun again, but he wouldn't be telling that to the green eyed boy anytime soon. He still stopped at the door: his hand not quite touching the doorknob, hesitating.

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and pushed the door open.

The first thing he noticed was how different the room looked from what he remembered. It had always been so...spartan, so empty of any luxury; simple, just as Shun was. Now it seemed that his little brother had made use and abuse of Saori's financial support. Not that Ikki would berate him for that. Now the room was heavily furnished; warm, dark tones overriding everything else. There was a four poster bed- mahogany, if Ikki new anything about wood- with heavy crimson curtains draped around it. One huge bookcase decorated the wall opposite to the window. Ikki noted that, though it was packed with books arranged very neatly, there were several volumes sprawled across the floor.

He'd expected it to be dark; Shun had a thing for brooding in the dark that Ikki found a tad melodramatic. But that wasn't the case. Though the lights were out, there was an enormous amount of candles decorating the walls, the twin bedside tables, even the floor; all set in gorgeous, gothic candlesticks, bathing the room with their warm light and giving it a finishing touch.

If the house had felt like a graveyard, then Ikki would have to say Shun's room looked like a crypt.

The room had a... sad aura, and that was something Shun could never be associated with; emotional, yes, melodramatic for sure, but sad? The first thing that came to his mind was that his little brother might have been going through a phase. He was, after all, just a teenager. It wouldn't be the first time a teenager adopted a morbid pose.

For a moment he even thought that his concerns might have only been a result of Shun's hormones *finally* kicking in.

Searching with his eyes, the Phoenix saint was able to distinguish a wisp of green hair from an opening on the curtains around the bed. Now that was strange. Shun would never be so careless as to go to sleep leaving all those candles begging to set the house on fire.

He approached the bed careful not to make any sound; if Shun was awake- which was not very likely- he wasn't aware of his presence, so he still had a chance to surprise him. Ikki slowly draw the curtains so he could peak inside.

Shun was, indeed, sleeping. His little brother was resting on his back, his hands over his chest holding something to his heart. Ikki gasped slightly. Shun had grown up so much in just a few months. And though he still looked delicate and rather girlish, Ikki thought his little brother looked beautiful.

Shun, sleeping as he was, with such a peaceful expression, looked like a porcelain doll. The candle light made his skin look even paler than usual and his hair- that was at least two inches longer- seemed darker and silkier. It was not right that a boy his age had such a perfect skin. Shun wouldn't have any problem getting any girl he wanted- _Or boy_, Ikki corrected. He'd noticed- not to his pleasure, by the way- the way his little brother ogled that stupid rusky.

He noticed something lying next to the sleeping boy. Ikki sat down next to his brother and picked it up. It was that old photograph Shun carried around *everywhere*.

It was weird to see that picture again. Who was the sicko who took it, anyway? He didn't remember, but it wasn't normal to photograph a street boy and his brother like that. It certainly wasn't a candid scene; it seemed almost a mockery of what he'd gone through.

The frame was broken, the glass shattered and Ikki thought he could see a few droplets of blood on the picture. It was luck he hadn't cut with the glass himself. What was Shun thinking, sleeping next to it?

He carefully trailed his fingers over the image of his baby brother. Yes, Shun had grown up to be something of a heart breaker; but he was still a baby to him. His baby.

He realized, amused, that he was running his fingers through the baby's hair, when he had Shun right next to him. That was just like him, ignoring the present for the past. He put the frame on the bedside table nearest to him and rested his back to the headboard, absentmindedly running his fingers through Shun's *real* hair.

The boy stirred and let go of what he was holding- their mother's pendant, Ikki noticed- leaning into the caress and turning to rest on his side.

"Nii-san..." Shun mumbled in his sleep.

Ikki leaned down and kissed the boy's forehead, smiling.

"I'm here, Shun-chan. I'm back."

_**TBC**_

_**(*) Greeks believed in reincarnation. They believed that the souls of those about to be reborn drank for the river Lethe, set in the Underworld, to forget about their previous lives and be able to start anew. But how much you forgot had to do with how much you'd drank.**_

_**No, it's not going to be Ikki/Shun (I know in the manga they're all brothers, but I'm no *that* open minded, heh heh, so I'm ignoring that) But I won't ignore the freakish relationship those two have. Freakish meaning, if my own brother treated me like that, I'd be out the door asking for help in an instant. I do love those two and their relationship, though.**_


	3. Ch2 Life&Death

_**A/N: Here's chapter three. I should warn you, I love the gold saints with all my heart so, if you see someone mildly bashing them, it's not *my* opinion. It's just this person's opinion at that moment (not always). You'll understand later.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER TWO**

**LIFE AND DEATH**

Milo had watched Saori pace the halls of the Sanctuary for weeks now. He didn't need to be Einstein to understand something was coming. It was in the air; a tension so palpable he'd have trouble making a hole in it with his scarlet needle.

She was dead worried about something. He hadn't even seen her this worried before the battle with Poseidon. Somehow though, he couldn't feel sorry for her. It was something he'd take with him to the grave- whenever in the near future that was- but that was eating him inside. He resented her.

It took every bit of effort on his part not to tell her to piss off every time she came with one of her requests; every time she gave him one of those condescending smiles of hers.

It was shameful and unworthy of a Gold saint, but he couldn't shake the feeling off. In fact, it got worse with each passing day. She was Athena; she probably already knew of his feelings. It was her job to know her saints' hearts, after all. But she hadn't given any indication of knowing that every time he looked at her, he wanted to punch her in the face.

If she knew her saints' hearts, why did she bring Hyoga back and not Camus? Couldn't she tell Camus was one of the good guys?

Milo'd had his doubts about that, but in the end, his faith to his friend remained unhindered. Camus wasn't bad, he was stupid. So incredibly and infuriatingly stupid!

What in hell had he tried to prove? He taught Hyoga his technique, so? Couldn't he teach him that *without* dying in the process? If he was aware that Hyoga deserved his knowledge, why in heavens didn't he just let him pass and got around teaching him later?

Milo himself wasn't one of the brightest saints out there, but even he'd been able to see that killing Hyoga would have been a mistake. The boy was noble at heart. So Milo knew Camus hadn't meant to kill his pupil. What he'd meant, Milo didn't know.

Probably to teach Hyoga a lesson about how it was more important to be the best of saints than listen to his feelings towards his mentor. Bull shit.

To hell with honor, Gold cloths and duty, Milo had lost his one and only friend! He sure didn't remember his own mentor teaching him how to deal with that. A senseless death was still a senseless death; and Camus' had been just that.

But even if Camus had been the biggest of asses, Athena could still have brought him back, just as she did with Hyoga.

All Milo could do now was wish he'd killed the Cygnus saint himself when he'd had the chance and that Camus was still here to listen to him rambling about his problem with that cool head of his. But of course, time travel was not one of his abilities and Camus not being here was *precisely* his problem.

He still needed someone to talk to, though. The Scorpio saint paced his house trying to decide which of the remaining saints would do. His immediate second choice was Shura, but he was better off not thinking about that either.

Dohko was wise, but he was probably deaf, so old that he was, and he wasn't at the Sanctuary anyway. Shaka was a possibility, he was a good man and didn't mind listening; but he wasn't in the mood to hear how suffering was cleansing to the soul and all that spiritual crap. He wanted some real, human advice.

Aioria was human, alright. Hot blooded and emotional, but not very good with his brain. Same with Aldebaran. That left Mu. The Aries saint was reflective and somewhat spiritual, but he also had his share of emotions, and the lilac haired man was also very wise. That, and Milo knew he was the most trustworthy and friendly of them all.

Maybe Mu could help him grieve properly once and for all. If something was, indeed, coming, it wouldn't do to have such a resentment towards his goddess. With that thought, he headed downstairs. It was just his luck the Aries saint was the furthest from where he was.

* * *

Morning met Shun way too soon; or at least that's how it seemed to him. Groaning, he got out of bed with the intention of closing the curtains and going back to sleep. He was exhausted.

He didn't remembered leaving the curtains open, but didn't think much of it. His mind hadn't been focused precisely on the curtains the night before. It wasn't until he reached the windows that he noticed the candles were out but they hadn't melted out. In fact, they weren't melted at all, as if they'd been put out minutes after he fell asleep.

He noticed then, that he wasn't wearing his shoes, when he knew very well he had been too tired the night before to even take *that* off. And his portrait, the one he'd broken a few days back, was not on the bed. The shards of glass had been removed from his sheets as well.

A few months, even a few weeks before, he'd been worried by it. Now, all he was, was curious. He removed his dirty clothes lazily and ran a hand through his long hair to smoother it before walking to his closet.

Who could it be, that had been so kind to pay him a visit? Visits were something to be treasured when you were him, after all. He had to dress up to the occasion. He gazed at his wardrobe in wonder. What could be appropriate? Buried under layers and layers of dark clothing, Shun saw his old battered green T-shirt.

Taking it out, he fingered the fabric softly, almost tenderly. Why not? He hadn't wore it in a while; he could almost say he'd missed it. He'd pass on the white pants and suspenders, though, choosing a similar pair in black, these much more expensive and classy. Who'd thought that he'd gain a sense of fashion from all this?

Shun made no rush to ready himself. He took a long, relaxing shower and spent a while just brushing his hair. He felt calmed; he knew he shouldn't have, but he couldn't help it, so he accepted it and enjoyed it as much as he could.

He stepped out of the bathroom already dressed and feeling fresh and clean; a towel draped around his shoulders. It was time to meet the intruder.

Stopping at the door, he eyed his Andromeda cloth. There was nothing to suggest the intruder was a foe- though in those days he couldn't really know who wasn't, really- but it was always good to be ready for anything. But the cloth wasn't his anymore, was it?

He'd earned it fair and square; he hadn't done anything to dishonor it. He just wasn't the reincarnation of Andromeda. That was just a constellation that protected and guided him. But it wasn't him, was it? All the things about his personality that he'd always associated with his guardian constellation now had gained a completely different meaning. His spirit of sacrifice, his self-less heart... It had never been Andromeda's heart.

Though he now knew the Andromeda cloth and Athena had nothing to do with each other- aside from having both had Hefestos' hand intervene in their birth (*)- he was still trying to decide if it should be appropriate for him to keep on wearing it.

In the end he figured that, if the intruder had meant to hurt him, they'd done so while he slept and, if he was wrong, there were few people who could actually present a threat to him anyway.

If anyone had been there to see him as he rushed downstairs, they'd thought he didn't have a care in the world. Aside from his change in attire, there wasn't a thing in his demeanor that would have given any reason to suspect Shun had changed at all.

He, himself, wasn't sure if he had changed. He didn't feel 'different', per se. At least, he didn't feel like he was another person. Was he? He did feel like what he'd... 'learned' in the past few days had marked him. Or maybe it had marked him thousands of years before? He couldn't know for sure.

Everything was way too confusing to dwell on it, really.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs his heart skipped a beat. A strong aroma of coffee and pancakes invaded his nostrils. Someone was obviously making breakfast; which was odd on itself. He'd kicked Tatsumi out weeks ago; not really wishing to be left completely alone, but unwilling to resign to the second class company Saori had left him with.

But to top it all, the pancakes smelled slightly of apples and cinnamon. He'd smelled that aroma probably twice or three times in all his life, but it was so engraved in his memory that he'd be able to recognize it anywhere.

He really tried not to get his hopes up, but he noticed that he'd still sped up the pace and now was practically running towards the kitchen, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

As much as he tried to be reasonable; as much as he told himself that Ikki would never come back without a reason, that it was completely out of character, any other possibility was so far-fetched that he could only think his Nii-san was didn't dare to use his cosmo to check though, afraid whoever it was in his kitchen would notice the difference if he as much as lit it enough to spark. Ikki, of all people, was most certainly going to notice.

_Nii-san_. Was it still ok to call Ikki that? Yes, of course it was. Ikki was still his brother; there was no doubt about that. It was weird though. All those years ago he hadn't called his brothers 'Nii-san', but that's just cause he hadn't spoken Japanese.

It fit Ikki though, he thought a little bitterly. Hadn't Ikki abandoned him just as his brothers had? If he hadn't been able to sense that about people, he'd have even suspected Ikki was one of them.

_'No,'_ Shun shook his head as he stopped at the kitchen's entrance. From the open door he could see his brother's back turned to him. Ikki was whistling happily while he prepared breakfast. He even had a ridiculous apron on. _'Ikki is nothing like them. Ikki wouldn't hurt me like that.'_

And though he wasn't sure if that was true, it would have to do for the time being. He took a step into the kitchen, his smile broadening.

"Nii-san..." he whispered, still a little disbelieving. Though the word sounded a little alien when it'd left his lips, as soon as Ikki turned around and flashed him one of his smug smiles, Shun forgot all about his problems and doubts.

He threw himself into his brother's arms and did nothing to stop the tears that fell from his eyes the moment he felt Ikki's embrace closing around him.

"Hey, you." His big brother's voice sounded a tad emotional, even though the Phoenix saint wouldn't admit it, not even drunk.

Shun tightened his hold of the older boy, sniffing.

"I missed you so much!" he cried, feeling like a little boy again. It felt dam good, mind you.

"Now, now..." Ikki patted his back awkwardly. "I made us breakfast. And you're going to eat every last bite of it. You've lost at least 10 pounds since I last saw you."

Shun giggled and pulled away, smiling genuinely for the first time in weeks.

"Ok, mom!"

Ikki smacked him on the head and then ruffled his hair affectionately.

"When are you going to grow up? Men don't *giggle* Shun-chan!" There wasn't real indignation in his voice, for what Shun felt safe enough to answer with another giggle. Ikki rolled his eyes and pushed him towards the table. "Go on, sit. Lets eat."

For a while, Shun could pretend everything was ok. He wasn't alone and he was not a monster.

* * *

It felt like waking up for a dreamless sleep; as if an outside noise had pulled him out of his slumber. It was confusing; he was numbed all over and his brain felt foggier than after the worst of hangovers.

Gemini Saga forced his eyes to open.

The light caused them to water instantly; that was the only hint he had of where he'd been before that moment. If his eyes hurt, then he'd been somewhere dark but, honestly, he didn't remember it. The moments before his death were still fresh in his mind as if it'd been yesterday, yet he could tell it had happened a while back.

His death...

It hit him then, that he was supposed to be dead. Was this hell? Did he deserve hell after all? He'd fought against Ares; he'd beat him in the end. But somewhere in the back of his brain he knew; Ares would have never chosen him if he hadn't had his doors open for such an obscure spirit.

The shapes before him were starting to make sense; as well as the sounds around him. Maybe this wasn't heaven, but it surely couldn't be hell. He couldn't picture the devil having a fresh of cherubs on his ceiling and harps sounding in the background. Or maybe he had a strange sense of humor?

The heavenly music stopped all of the sudden, but he still felt too confused to understand why. He attempted to roll over to his side then, noting that he was laying on a cold, hard surface. Gray stone, but gray because it was old, he realized; and not the same kind of old as the tiles at the Sanctuary.

He was too weak to even think about raising his head to gather his surroundings from a wider angle and maybe, just maybe, make some kind of sense of them. At the moment, he was face to face with a couple of red slippers approaching him slowly.

"You're awake." A kind female voice spoke from above his head in Greek, of course, but though her voice was mild and soft, her accent was as hard as the floor he was laying on. As kind as the voice might have been, the woman made no attempt to help him when he, after rolling onto his stomach, tried to push himself up. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Gemini Saga."

_**TBC**_

_**(*) Hefestos was the Greek god in charge of forging all the gods' weapons. It's only logical to assume he was the one to forge the cloths. Zeus, after having eaten Athena's mother (like father like son, I say) and suffering from a splitting headache, asked Hefestos to literally *split* his head with his axe and then Athena came out, all grown up. Weird...**_


	4. Ch3 Ice&Fire

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**BED OF ICE, DREAMS OF FIRE**

The Rozan waterfall's deafening noise was strangely relaxing that morning. You'd think that a place as noisy as that one would be detrimental to someone who depended so much on his hearing to go around. But Shiryu was more that used to it.

After living there for so long, the boisterous noise was nothing but a murmur. A murmur that spoke of a violent peace, of a chaotic balance; the loud yet comforting song of the waterfall was a part of him, of his soul, that always managed to lull him into a sense of home.

Lately though, not even the waterfall was enough to drown his troubled thoughts.

It had been a while since he'd depended on his original five senses for anything. The eyes of his soul allowed him to see so much more and in such depth that, even when he knew his eyes had probably healed already, he couldn't find it in his heart to remove the bandages, fearing that he'd get used to a three dimensional world again.

But as much as he wanted to preserve his world just as it was at that moment, his days were turning more and more ordinary as they passed. It wasn't that he looked down on the people with ordinary lives; he'd envied them for as long as he could remember. And it wasn't that he missed the battle- not much, anyway.

No, it was simply that he had no idea of how to *be* a normal person.

His life after Poseidon had acquired a strange balance, though. For a lack of a better analogy, it felt like waking up from a very bizarre dream. Like that moment, when your eyes have just opened and you're able to remember your dream with a clear head, not fogged with the irrationality of the dream, and yet you're not quite in the real world either.

You know- you can feel it- that in a matter of seconds you'll be completely awake and the dream will fade away. It's not that it was such a wonderful dream either, but somehow reality seems gray and tasteless afterwards. Shiryu's life at that moment felt like that.

What was he supposed to do, once reality finally set in? He could always stay at Rozan; keep his old master company. That was the most appealing option. But wouldn't that be like living forever in the past? Hadn't Athena said they were supposed to lead a normal life now?

What life could he lead? He was fourteen and never in his life set foot inside a school. He wasn't an ignorant, for sure, but in the real world, it wasn't so much how much you knew and more where you'd gotten the knowledge. No one would care he was wiser than most people twice his age; he didn't have a diploma.

He wondered if the others were feeling as lost as him. He'd been thinking about his friends a lot during the past few days. Specially Seiya, since he was more of a brother than a friend to him. The deep bond he had with him, with all of them, was starting to loose it's strength.

It was like all his life, his purpose, was starting to loose meaning. If he concentrated, he could still feel their cosmo. It was there, though not as strong or blazing. Just as his was; fading but there. But what was it good for?

Every time he sought his friends' cosmo, he thought he could feel something wrong stirring in the back of his mind. The problem was, he didn't know if it was a real threat or just him wishing. And he felt awful, actually wishing for something evil to rise. But even if it did, even if he was right, it wasn't up to them to fight it. Their lives as saints was over.

In real world terms, they were nothing but children, weren't they? Shiryu couldn't work or make a life for himself. If he so much as tried to, he was bound to end up in an institution. Rozan was his *only* option. It wasn't that bad, anyway.

So yeah, he would probably live his life like someone who's time had already passed. It was the truth; it was a miracle that he was still alive, and no wonder he didn't have any prospects. He hated it, but he knew he'll live the rest of his life as a ghost.

And then there was Shunrei.

Not only it was incredibly unfair to ask her to share that kind of life with him, *he* *was* *only* *fourteen*! How the hell was he supposed to know if he loved her? Most people twice, three times his age had commitment issues, for god's sake! It was only a couple of years since he started regarding her with different eyes. How could he know if she was the one for him?

He didn't have a soul to ask advice from. Shunrei was obviously out of the question. His friends, the only people who could know what he was feeling, were miles away. Not even his very wise master qualified. His problems weren't the kind he could run to his master with. How silly would he look? 'Master, I'm having a teenage crisis', yeah right.

But thinking about it actually made him feel better. He was only having a teenage crisis. Nothing like the problems he'd gone through before in his short life; nothing he couldn't overcome. He was ready and able; no need to freak out. Right?

He could feel Dohko meditating, as usual, a few feet away from him. For a moment, Shiryu let his mind clear, watching the torrent of water in front of him with the eyes of his mind. He remembered how they were supposed to look, but right there, with his eyes closed, he knew he could see the depth of the waterfall a lot better.

The different shades of greenish light that danced downwards were the water. Like serpents they made their way into an ironically blinding light at the bottom. Little hays of green and yellow sparkling everywhere. The air joined in the dance, soft tones of blue circling the snakes of water in a loving embrace. There was no atmosphere blocking his sight of the universe. Every single star blazed over his head like a million suns. That's what they were, after all.

The one to catch his attention was the earth, though. With all that light around him, the faint glimmer of the earth should have passed unnoticed. But staring at it was like looking at a dying hearth. While every other light, stronger light, felt fresh or even cold, the earth warmed his skin softy with his energy.

Shiryu could see the life force in it. Like a loving mother, the earth didn't waste any light to make itself look pretty. It kept it all inside to use it for what it was needed, to let everything grow strong and at the same time taking from the air, the water, the stars. It was the cradle of life.

But Shiryu then saw something else. It was impossible to explain with words. Underneath the faint glimmer of the earth lay something else, an engulfing darkness that threatened the balance around it.

His first reaction was to fear it. He almost abandons his meditation all together, fearing the darkness would swallow him too. Upon a closer look though, Shiryu saw the darkness for what it was. It was basic really, he was Chinese, for crying out loud! He, of all people, should have known better. That darkness was there for a reason.

He berated himself for being so childish. It's amazing how primitively a human mind works; just because it's dark, one immediately assumes it's evil. Well, Shiryu knew there wouldn't be light without darkness; that darkness stopped the light from destroying and burning everything else around it. It was as part of the earth as everything else; as necessary.

Yet it made Shiryu incredibly sad, for some reason. Forced to remain separated; shunned from the glorious spectacle that was the universe. Was that darkness an actual place, an actual being? He thought he could see the loneliness in it. He sure hoped to be wrong.

A soft hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality. His surroundings became nothing but a hushed whisper, but before he focused on Shunrei, who was standing behind him with a warm smile on her face, he thought he saw someone staring at him with begging eyes from the darkness. He could have sworn he saw a flash of green reaching out to him from the corner of his eye, but it disappeared as fast as it'd come.

* * *

Siberian nights were long almost all the year around. Long and beautiful, for when the sky was clear, the stars seemed close enough to touch them. The contrast of the white brightness of the ice, glistening under the moon, against the deep black of the night seemed like the perfect balance.

Cold, or so his masters had told him, was the stillness of molecules; the slowest an atom moves against the others, the colder a substance is. A cold and heartless definition for something that he could relate to in so many other levels. But it suited it; Siberian nights had to be the stillest of all nights around the world.

It had been a while since he'd bothered going back to his cabin to sleep; it had been a while since he'd bothered with anything. Laying on the ice, motionless, that's what he did most of the time. Had he been anyone else, he'd probably be covered in frostbite by then. But his body knew the cold all too well. If there was one thing he wouldn't be dying of, that was hypothermia.

Death; it was something that seemed to follow him around like his shadow but, just as his shadow, it never reached him completely. His mother, his master and his master's master, his childhood friend... Three out of four he'd killed himself. Shun almost dies saving him. Why would the green haired boy think, just for one second, that his life was worth any less than Hyoga's?

It didn't matter. Nothing did anymore. Of all of them, he was the one who wouldn't be starting a new life. There was nothing he wanted, needed, more than the ice, the cold and the night. He'd just wait there, until something happened or his life slipped away. Whatever came first.

He'd always been one to live in the past. All the others had had something to look forward to, some goal. Seiya wanted to be reunited with his sister; Shun and Ikki had gone through hell and back just to be together again; to survive. Maybe Shiryu could understand; but he still had that girl that was always looking after him.

All he had were his memories. Good or bad, it didn't matter. He was going to relive each one. Living in the past was his thing, after all, and after all the death and suffering he'd brought to the ones he cared about, it was the only way he'd be living from then on.

* * *

Whatever Julian was planning, Sorrento didn't know for sure. He knew it involved screwing Athena somehow, and that scared him. One thing was to do it when they had a strong army; when Julian and Poseidon were one. He'd never been too sure of the purpose of their battle, but he'd follow Julian to the grave.

That didn't mean he was anxious to see his grave any time soon though. Nor Julian's. For months now, they'd led a quiet and peaceful life by the sea; together, which was more than what Sorrento would have ever dreamed of. This trip to Japan threatened everything. He'd given anything to keep things as they were; to tell Julian he'd lost his mind, that whatever he was thinking was stupid and that he'd never beat Athena, *anyway*.

But he wouldn't utter a word. He still felt like Julian was somehow above the average human. It wasn't right though, was it? He was an average human. He was his lover now; he better start thinking of him as an equal!

The private jet was producing a barely audible hum; very soothing, almost sedative, that made his eyelids feel heavy. Sorrento rested his head on Julian's shoulder and let out a contented sigh. Julian, who'd been staring out the window, never taking his eyes from the blue sea below them, circled his waist with one arm.

"You're too quiet today," Julian said without turning to look at him.

There was something nagging at Sorrento and, if he was going to start thinking of Julian as an equal, he needed to say it; even when it meant questioning his decision.

"Why did we take the jet? Why not a regular flight?"

Julian turned his head and smiled at him.

"You're smarter than this," he joked. "How would have we explained the two large metal boxes at the airport? You think they'd let us through with them?"

Sorrento smiled back, defying his boyfriend.

"Oh, so it has nothing to do with the fact that the Graad foundation would have known the moment we set foot in Japan?"

Julian snorted.

"Ah! So you *are* smarter. I underestimated you, I see. Well, can you blame me?"

He leaned to kiss Julian playfully, burying his hands in his hair.

"No, of course I can't." he said, finishing with a sigh "I'm just worried about this."

Julian held him as if he would break. It was almost funny, how delicately his lover treated him, when he had to know that he was not delicate, nor helpless. Not that Sorrento had any complains.

"Don't be. I'm not stupid. I'd never do anything to endanger you."

Sorrento snuggled closer to him, a contented smile playing at his lips.

"Just remember that if something happens to you, it would also hurt me. Ok?"

Julian kissed the top of his lover's head affectionately.

"Deal."

* * *

Ikki tucked his little brother in, running a hand through his bangs and trying hard not to show the worry he was feeling.

Something was wrong; horribly wrong with Shun. He'd only been back for two days and he couldn't deny it. Shun would smile and joke as usual, but more often than not, his brother's eyes held a darkness that made Ikki's blood run cold. He'd find Shun staring into space, sometimes even smiling an unsettling smile. Half the time, his brother wasn't there with him.

Just now, he'd woken up in the middle of the night after a nightmare he couldn't remember. In his unsettled state, his first impulse was to go look for Shun and make sure he was ok.

But his brother's room was empty. It took him almost half an hour to finally find him, standing alone in the garden, wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms in spite of the chilly night air. He was ready to smack him in the head for his carelessness, when he saw the blank look on his face as the green haired boy stared hypnotically at the full moon.

For a moment, he figured Shun was sleep walking, but when he placed a hand on his shoulder, intending to lead him back inside, Shun reacted, smiling at him and, without a word, going back with him. He'd been awake.

To his brother's strange behavior he had to add his change in wardrobe. It suited him, Ikki thought proudly, but it was just another layer of darkness opaquing his usual light. Ikki wouldn't even consider paying attention to the change in Shun's cosmo. Unlike the rest of them, Shun's cosmo hadn't faded in the slightest. It seemed to be burning more than ever, even when his brother wasn't making use of it.

He'd asked, over and over, what was going on; Shun always waved him off with a smile. The blue haired boy didn't even know where to begin to find out what was wrong with his brother, and he could feel that whatever it was, was getting worse by the minute. He was scared.

Now though, he wasn't going to ask again. Shun looked tired, he was going to let him rest and ask tomorrow. Ikki kissed his forehead as Shun smiled up to him like a little boy. He was; his little boy.

"Nii-san?" Shun sleepy voice stopped him from leaving.

"Yes, Shun-chan?"

"How much do you love me?" the boy closed his eyes as he spoke, turning to rest on his side. Ikki knelt down next to him, a melancholic smile on his lips. He knew the answer to that question; it was a game of theirs from when they were little; from before their lives turned into hell.

"As much as all the stars put together and more," he said tenderly.

Shun giggled, without opening his eyes.

"To the end of the universe and back?"

"Yes. And more."

It was then Shun opened his eyes, and Ikki backed away a little, startled by what he saw in them. There wasn't any green left in those orbs. Just two engulfing black holes.

"Then you'll love me even if I do something bad?" His tone was as innocent as if nothing was going on. Ikki saw, *felt*, Shun's cosmo, dark and dangerous swirling around his otouto's form. "Do you love me more than you love Athena?"

Ikki closed his own eyes, feeling tears welling up. Somehow he knew then, on a subconscious level maybe, what was going on. In a swift movement he had Shun held safely in his arms as he rocked him back and forward.

"I'll love you, always," he whispered "There's no one more important to me than you, you hear that? I'll stay by your side. No matter what."

_**TBC**_


	5. Ch4 Blanks&Holes

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

**FILLING THE BLANKS, DIGGING UP HOLES**

For the first time in months, Hyoga was warm. It was an unsettling warmth, overwhelming. The very core of him, his essence, seemed to be wrapped in it; he could feel himself loosing anything resembling control.

He could not see the face of the person holding him so close, touching him so intimately, but that didn't make him feel any less love for them. It was as if he knew who it was; who it was supposed to be. It was perfect and at the same time very disconcerting. But Hyoga's mind was attuned with the irrationality of whatever dream this was. Because he knew that was all; a dream.

Much more than any other dream he'd ever had, because it was not a series of events, not a situation; it was as if his soul had awakened while his body slept and let itself be entwined to this other person's spirit in order to help him heal.

Though it was just a dream, only an oneiric relief, Hyoga gave into the sensation. In life he was not loved. In his waking hours he had nothing that gave him such warmth. Why not be happy in his sleep? There was nothing left to wake up for.

But as dreams go, without any regard of time coherence- or any kind of coherence for that matter- he found himself holding that person in his arms instead of the other way around; in a bedroom instead of the ice that had served as a resting place for them both an instant before. The room he didn't recognize, but it wasn't strange to him either.

This time he was supposed to comfort his companion but, as much love as he irrationally felt for this person, as much as he wanted to return that wonderful feeling of safety this person had blessed him with, his attention kept drifting to the open window. There was no light coming from there; on the contrary, it seemed that the dim light of the room was being engulfed by the outside.

_~Stay with me~_ a soft, gentle voice tried to distract him from his observations. And suddenly there was no one in his arms. _~Stay with me, please. Don't leave me alone.~_

The fear in that voice immediately passed onto him and he *knew* he had to know who this person was. Even if it was only a dream, it was trying to tell him something important.

_~Who are you?~_ he said, but he noted frustrated that his voice had come as a whisper.

_~Stay with me and I'll give you anything you want, Hyoga.~_

Now the voice sounded vicious, as dark as the hungry black mass outside the window, and Hyoga felt shivers running up and down his spine. The figure that had previously been laying in his arms stood proud in front of the bed. Even when he couldn't quite see them, he knew *he* was beautiful. The realization came as a ton of bricks. He knew who this person was.

Three shadows appeared behind the mysterious man, all of them concealed by a black cloak and hood.

_~Anything you want and an eternity by my side.~_

The first to reveal himself was Isaak. He removed his hood and took a step forward, causing Hyoga to gasp. Before he had time to voice his surprise, the Crystal saint, his master and surrogate father, did the same. Hyoga felt tears in his eyes. Both of them looked in so much pain.

But it was the third and last of them that broke Hyoga's heart into a million pieces all over again; for in the middle of the other two stood his mother.

In spite of the love he knew he had for the man who'd let him see the three people he loved the most again, Hyoga felt outraged and angered. For some reason he realized this wasn't a gift, it was an extortion.

_~Leave them alone!~_ he tried to yell, but again his voice failed him.

The other man seemed to hear him though; he lowered his head, Hyoga didn't know if out of defeat or sadness for his mistake, but the three figures behind him disappeared.

He then stretched out his arms towards Hyoga in a pleading gesture, but the blond saint backed away.

_~Please... don't leave me here.~_

* * *

"Hyoga..., C'mon, wake up!" an acute voice dripped from the outside into his dream scape, causing it to dissolve.

Hyoga gasped and sat upright, looking around in every direction for any sign of the horror he'd just witnessed. It had been horrifying, hadn't it?

But at his side only stood a half annoyed, half concerned Jacob, of whom you could only distinguish his face- and partially at that- because he was wearing that over-sized coat of his.

"About time, man! I thought you were dead!" the little boy scolded.

It took Hyoga a couple of minutes to regain his surroundings and chase away every image of the disturbing dream he'd just had. Jacob was staring at him with eyes innocent and curious. The boy was carrying a basket filled with food, from cheese and bread to vodka, a good Siberian breakfast, huh?

Inwardly berating himself for forgetting all about the people of the village- that were bound to find him at one point or another- he smiled a little and rubbed his eyes.

"Does your grandfather know you go around carrying a case of vodka, Jake?"

The boy nodded emphatically, offering the basket to him. Hyoga begun rummaging around it's contents, feeling his stomach starting to grumble.

"Sure he does! He's the one that gave it to me. We haven't seen much of you around town lately. We were starting to think you'd gone popsicle on us. Winter's getting pretty harsh, after all."

"I hadn't noticed." he said detachedly, taking a slice of cheese into his mouth.

"What's wrong? You look sad." Jacob stated matteroffactly. "Is it because of your master? We all miss him, you know?"

In his innocence, Jacob had seen his sadness and assumed it was just a matter of 'missing' Crystal. He could not understand the guilt Hyoga felt, and the blond saint was actually grateful for that. But there was an element of truth, wasn't there? He did miss his master. And his mother. Life would be so much simpler if that was all he felt.

But Jacob had also reminded him that he was not the only one who'd known and cared about his master. Everyone at the village knew he'd killed him, and yet they still worried about his well-being. Taking a swig of vodka- being careful not to drink too much, of course- he felt the liquid refreshing his throat at first, just to make his insides burn a second later.

It might have been ridiculous, but now he had a full stomach and things didn't look so hopeless. At least for the time being. He used Jacob's shoulder as a support and got up, afterwards patting the boy's head affectionately.

"Nah, I'm ok. Say, I haven't been to the village in a long time. Any news?" he smiled and Jacob's eyes glistened with mischief. The boy was as gossipy as an old maid.

"You won't believe who's getting married!" he chirped, clasped his hands together.

He listened to his little friend babble about the village's latest news as they walked towards his cabin. Maybe a good, proper meal and a good night sleep would put things in perspective.

From behind a wall of stony ice, a dark figure observed them both, waiting for his signal to do as he'd been told. He didn't understand why the lord of the underworld had chosen him to look for the Cygnus saint. The idea of trying to kill him again made his heart hurt; but if he didn't do it, then someone else would in his place, and he couldn't allow that to happen.

* * *

Shun woke up with a start. His cheeks were humid with tears he didn't remember shedding, but there was no surprise there.

He found he'd fallen asleep in his Nii-san's arms; the older boy now slept soundly, seemingly undisturbed by his nightmare. Remembering the events that had gotten him there, he berated himself. He was getting sloppy. Things were nowhere near ready; there was too yet to be remembered, to be figured out. And some things he needed to fix. What had possessed him to worry Ikki like he'd done the night before?

The green eyed boy untangled himself from his brother's tight embrace to get up, stopping just for a moment to contemplate Ikki's peaceful expression. At that moment, Shun realized how unfair he was being.

His brother, more than once, had come to his rescue; had sacrificed his well being in exchange for his own. How did he pay him? By getting him involved in something he wasn't free to explain. He could *not* say a word, as sure as he was of Ikki's loyalty.

Maybe he'd hoped Ikki would be his company where everyone else had failed him. But their sins weren't his Nii-san's fault. It was time to give everyone what they deserved; he'd already decided that. So why treat his brother any different?

His dream had been a sign that, as unprepared as he was, the wheels had already been set in motion. Time was running out and he would not burden Ikki with what was to come.

Placing a tender kiss on his brow, he left him and moved to his bookcase. Several volumes were sprawled across the floor, but Shun paid them no notice. There was no more time to read, no more time for remembrance. He did pick one that was still resting on it's shelf. He did not need to read it; he knew half the things in it were wrong, and the half that would be correct he already knew. But he still eyed the cover wearily.

"Do not speak soothingly to me of death, glorious Odysseus." he whispered, eyes closed. "I should choose to serve as the hireling of another, rather than to be lord over the dead that have perished.(*)" Shun finished his quote, feeling the weight of his heart worsening. At least Homer had gotten one thing right.

He put the book aside and moved to where his cloth was. Should he take it with him? It wouldn't make a difference on the outcome, but he still felt he'd be kinda naked if he were to fight without it. Was there even going to be a fight?

He did not want to hurt anyone, did he? He snorted. Yes, he wanted to hurt someone, alright; but he wouldn't do it with his Nebula Chain this time. So he just picked an appropriate outfit; something black and simple, but that could compete with Athena's pomposity, maybe show her a thing or two about taste. He just wished he had a scythe handy, that would be the icing of the cake, so to speak.

Once he'd dressed, he again stopped to look at his brother, the one person who could have changed his mind. Wasn't that the very reason he was leaving? No; he wasn't running away from his fate, he was protecting Ikki from it.

But there was still one thing to be done. Ikki might still go after him- either as a friend or a foe, Shun didn't care. He'd make sure his brother had an upper hand. The phoenix cloth was resting right next to his own. Shun retrieved a small dagger from his coat and drew the edge swiftly across his wrist.

Thick blood began dripping from the wound and onto the bronze box that held Ikki's cloth. It begun glistening with the armor's energy. If, just for a fraction of a second, Shun had doubted his own memories and thought himself crazy, this was proof enough. The blood coated the box and slid through the edges, surely bathing the cloth as well, as it's energy increased and sang into his ears.

It was now bathed with the blood of a god.

* * *

Seiya whistled happily as he walked through Rodorio's streets. He'd started whistling a song he knew- one that had been stuck in his brain for days now- but somewhere along the line, it had just become a sprout of random notes.

He had a good feeling. This time his search would give him results and he and Seika would finally be together. There was the fear that this would be just another dead end, of course. Every other clue had been. But somewhere inside him he knew Saori had somewhat *used* his need to find Seika to keep him on her team. Now the fight was over, there was no reason for her to keep doing it.

Could he blame Saori? What was more important, could he believe something like that coming from her? Well, she *had* used it to keep him during the Galactic wars, hadn't she?

At the moment, he didn't want to think about it. Dwelling on past grudges would be silly, really. Besides Saori had come a long way since her days as a spoiled brat. She'd turned into a very beautiful woman; albeit kinda scary.

Greece was a nice place; very vacation-ish, and the sun hitting his face, mixed with the sea breeze was making his mood lift to stratospheric heights. There was no time to think about depressive things.

The girls were pretty too.

Arms behind his head, Seiya eyed every beautiful girl that passed his way; rewarding those who gave him their attention with a bright smile. Girls, he thought with a sigh, would be his undoing. There was Miho, Shaina and the almighty goddess herself. All had succumbed to his charm and now he couldn't choose one over the other.

_'What can I do?' _he thought with a smug smile on his face. _'Girls just can't resist me. Life is so hard.'_

Inwardly laughing at his own silliness, he stretched his arms and yelled at the top of his lungs.

"Watch out ladies! Here comes Seiya, the heart-breaker!"

Of course, no one there had the slightest idea of what he'd just said. Everyone on the street stopped walking and regarded him as a lunatic. Some girls stared at him and laughed. Seiya laughed with them wholeheartedly. His job here was done.

His hands went to his pockets as he resumed his walk. Kicking some pebbles, he made a turn and found himself in a sort of market place. A fair, he realized, thanks to the decorations and merry spirit of the place. There were stands for almost everything; from fish to necklaces.

It was packed up with people of all ages. The youngest ran around, playing; the women roamed around each stand as if it was the best they'd ever seen, while the men eyed their pockets and wallets in grief. The entire scene seemed out of a movie and just managed to fuel his happy feeling.

Tomorrow he'd go to the Sanctuary to look for Marin. Today, he'd enjoy the fact that he still had hope. Maybe he could even pick something up; some present for his Ane-san. If he didn't give it to her tomorrow, or the day after that, there was always a chance to give her the present a year, ten years after. There *had* to be a chance.

_'Maybe a necklace', _he stopped in front of a stand that had all kinds of accessories; all made from the brightest and prettiest of stones but, he could tell, they were all semi-precious and hence, within his budget. There was Pink Quartz, Lapis lazuli, Onyx and some he didn't recognize. All very pretty and girly.

A very, *very* tall man stood before a flower stand a few feet away from him that immediately caught his attention. There was something about the guy that struck Seiya as awfully familiar, but he couldn't quite place him. It was like there was something missing that stopped him from putting a name to that face.

Seiya had to contain his laughter. It was a funny picture too, such a huge, bulky man smelling the flowers so delicately. A snort finally escaped him and the man turned to look at him with a frown. Seiya swallowed hard, thinking that he was in for a beating, but the man smiled broadly as soon as he saw him and before Seiya had time to know what had hit him, pulled the boy into a bone crashing bear hug.

"Seiya, m'boy! Long time no see!"

Of course, who else?

"Aldebaran, I can't breathe..."

The mountain of a man released him and Seiya was able to bring air into his lungs once again. Aldebaran was gazing down at him- of course he was, he was three times taller- with a curious expression.

In a very Seiya-like gesture, the Taurus saint placed a hand to the back of his neck as he begun speaking lazily.

"What are you doing here, Seiya? Came by for a visit?"

"Sorta. What about you? I almost didn't recognize you without all that gold on ya'. Shouldn't you be guarding that temple of yours? You know Kiki could go take a peak at DeathMask gory collection of corpses and maybe take a souvenir if no one's watching!"

Aldebaran laughed wholeheartedly, so much that Seiya could see the tears already forming in the corners of the huge man's eyes. Even in battle, Aldebaran had proven to be a wonderfully cheerful spirit, and that was something that went great with Seiya.

"No, no!" the man begun, trying to contain his laughter. "The little monster is back in Jamir." His face turned a little more serious. "No one is allowed at the Sanctuary, except us Gold saints and a handful of silver and bronze saints. I'm just taking a little break. As of today, I won't be able to leave my temple for any reason and must remain on guard 24/7."

That took Seiya by surprise. Maybe he'd misunderstood, but he was sure Marin had said they would meet at the Sanctuary. Besides, why would Athena put such strict rules? Did that mean *he* wasn't welcomed there? After all he'd done for the world? For her?

Of course he had to be welcomed! Yes, Athena had said she wanted them to have a normal life, but that couldn't mean she didn't want anything to do with them, did it? Unless... Unless something was wrong, and she was trying to protect them?

"What do you mean? Is there something going on up there?"

Aldebaran shrugged, then sighed.

"I don't know. Athena is acting really weird lately; I think she's worried about something, but she won't tell us about it." The taller man let out an exasperated sigh. "I tell you, Sanctuary is not the best place to be right now, so don't feel bad about it. Milo is moping around, crying on Mu's shoulder. I can hear him from my room! I feel sorry for Mu. Shaka is all meditative, won't talk to anyone, but there's not much change there. And Aioria is all lovey dovey with some girl, but no one can figure out who she is. To top it all, those bronze saints, you know, the ones' asses you guys kicked at the tournament, are around all the freaking time. That Nachi is getting on my nerves."

"That bad?" In spite of the carefree tone the Taurus saint had used, Seiya could see through it. Aldebaran was worried, and that worried him in turn. "I'm sure if I pay Saori-sama a visit, she won't mind, though. Right? I mean, just a visit? And I'm supposed to meet Marin there!"

Aldebaran shook his head sadly.

"I wouldn't if I were you. We have orders to kill anyone who tries to go through the temples. And that includes you guys."

Seiya stared at the taller man in shock. Surely he had to be joking!

* * *

Star Hill had been a bridge between worlds for as long as she could remember; and she could remember a *lot*. There was one place though, that not all the Star Hills put together could help her reach, and that was heaven.

Whatever her father, her uncles and aunts, had done in the past- or present- was not her fault and she had nothing to do with it. Oh, no; she was fair and just; she *was* the protector of mankind.

She knew the whole story though; she was well aware of what her powerful cosmos was made of. But she could use that power for a good cause, couldn't she? All she had to do was keep it.

And though there was a voice in her head that told her she had no right to lead anyone; though at some level she knew that if escaping the evil in any of them was possible, it hadn't been her the one to do it first, she could not pay attention to that voice. Specially not now.

The seal was broken; in dreams she'd seen Hades' spirit awakening, coming to get her. She wouldn't let him though. He was crazy beyond repair and there was no talking him out of it; all that was left was to fight; as they had done so often.

But this time, she couldn't count on her most valuable players, could she? If she allowed the bronze saints to fight, then she'd have Hades himself between them. Yes, she knew, and it had broken her heart to learn the truth; but there wasn't a thing she could do.

What a cruel hand fate had dealt for her this time around. She *did* care for her saints. For some more than others, yes, but she treasured them all in her heart. Maybe she could do with Hades as he'd done with Poseidon. If she managed to capture his powers and convince Shun everything had been a possession, maybe Shun wouldn't have to die.

And it surprised her, that she didn't want Shun to die. Hades she despised. For whatever standards that she didn't quite remember, she knew he was to be loathed and feared. But when she put Shun's face to that reproachable being, all she felt was pity and pain.

Alarmingly enough, it wasn't Shun's death what worried her the most. Not even the loss of her own powers, as much as that monopolized her thoughts. More often than not, she'd find herself thinking about Seiya.

The last Pegasus saint that had faced Hades, had died. She'd mourned for him, but it is something to be expected of a saint; to die for his goddess. Would Seiya meet the same fate? Her heart constricted at the mere thought of loosing him.

What were those feelings, she couldn't know. Or she knew, but couldn't afford to admit it. She was the virgin goddess; her lack of human weaknesses kept her strong and pure. Fancying a boy was not something someone as her should waste time with.

For the nth time, she wished she could still be just Saori. There was something so appealing in the idea of a normal life. She- although now able to recognize the impossibility- had really wished for her most dear saints to have what she could never experience. Maybe through them she could find fulfillment.

But now she knew it had been wistful thinking. As soon as Shun raised against the Sanctuary, the remaining bronze saints were bound to know and take action. The last thing she wanted was to see them fight each other.

Allowing herself a moment of frailty, she rose her eyes to the heavens that seemed to be so much closer from that sacred hill, and she cursed the decisions of her father. A father that had abandoned her and forced her to finish a job she hadn't chosen. She had no choice, did she? She couldn't give up; there was no returning home for someone like her, and the alternative was not something she admitted as an option.

A few tears ran through her young face. She returned to her chambers, any moment of weakness or doubt now behind her. There was no turning back.

_**TBC**_

_**(*) Achilles' soul to Odysseus. Homer, Odyssey 11.488. I'm not bragging. I haven't read the Odyssey... probably never will. This is the mighty power of research, people...I've done more for this fic than I did in high school!**_

_**There might be a few spoilers for the Hades chapter. If you saw or read it already, you'll recognize them. But if that's the case, and you see some things happening the same way, it doesn't mean it will *all* happen like in the manga/anime. Ok?**_


	6. Ch5 Blood&Water

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**BLOOD AND WATER**

There wasn't much for him to do these days. Staying inside the temple at all hours was extremely frustrating, but Mu had decided to make the most of it.

It was almost obvious that the temples weren't equipped with things such as microwaves and dishwashers, and probably never would. But it wasn't so ridiculous the idea of there being a kitchen, as out of place as it sounded. Gold saint or not, he still had to eat.

Of course, every mundane part of the temples was thoroughly concealed. It wouldn't do to have to face an enemy and have them seeing your dirty laundry, would it?

But as mundane and ordinary as cooking was, Mu had found it extremely relaxing and the perfect way to pass the long hours of waiting for god knows what. Or goddess, as the case may be. In fact, it was the ordinary part of it that made it so pleasant.

Sure, he had to wear his cloth all the time; he was supposed to be this mythological warrior, symbol of loyalty, power and virtue. But he still had to eat; he had to provide himself with his basic needs and, as it was, he could make it good for his senses in the process. He was human.

It was also a peaceful activity, for a change. Mu adored the peace and quiet he'd find in the kitchen; he much rather spend his time chopping vegetables than bodies.

That's precisely what he was doing that evening, while the onions and garlic toasted on the pan, he chopped some tomatoes and carrots and swiftly added them to the mix. The smell of the soon-to-be sauce was beginning to fill the air, and Mu unwittingly started humming to himself.

He felt Milo's presence as soon as the other man set foot on his temple, but Mu never stopped his work. Milo would know how to find him. For the past few days, the Scorpio saint would pop up several times a day; sometimes more composed that others, but every time in obvious need for a talk.

Mu didn't mind; he actually enjoyed the company. Since Kiki had been forced back to Jamir, things had been way too quiet around... well, around the whole Sanctuary, to be honest. Besides, Milo seemed to really trust him with his darkest thoughts and fears and he'd never minded to be the shoulder for someone in need.

He could remember the first time the blue haired saint had come to talk to him; how he'd beaten around the bush for nearly an hour before admitting, mortified, that he resented Athena for Camus' death. Mu had smiled and assured him that the fact that he'd sought advice proved he was not evil, that he should not torture himself for those thoughts.

In truth, Mu could understand him perfectly. He was not one to hold a grudge but, for the longest time, he was sure that they- the Gold saints- were second-class saints in Athena's eyes. He was still baffled at the way they'd been left aside during the battle with Poseidon, but now he could understand that Athena was, though in full use of her memories, just now learning how to be a goddess.

He'd told Milo that and now the Scorpio saint seemed to be starting to deal with his emotions. Yesterday, he'd spent an entire hour crying like a little boy- to Aldebaran's distress- and cursing Camus' stupidity to the end of the world and back. It was understandable too. Most of them knew each other since they were nothing but little kids. Camus was never one to befriend others and his friendship with Milo had been all the more special for that reason.

Mu stirred the sauce a little and, after putting the wooden spoon down, turned around to find Milo staring at him curiously.

"How can you do that and seem to enjoy it so much?" Milo said with a slight frown on his brow; though Mu could see the humor in his eyes. Good, he was in a good mood. "I hate cooking. I can't wait 'til McDonalds gets a franchise up here."

Mu laughed softly and motioned his friend to join him.

"I wouldn't be surprised if that happens!" he joked. "I'm making bolognese. Not exactly ethnically coherent of me but, what can I say? I love Italian."

Milo nodded, picking up the spoon and poking the sauce as if it were to bite.

"Camus did a mean civet (*), though I never really knew what it was made off." His tone was melancholic, but Mu was pleased to note Milo's voice didn't break anymore at the sole mention of his friend.

"Camus cooked?" he asked, mildly amused by the discovery.

"Sometimes, yeah. He also made something called... uhm... Beef Bourguignon ...I think. When he started babbling I never knew what he was saying."

"French is a pretty tough language to learn, I guess." Mu tried very hard not to laugh at his friend's poor attempts to pronounce the words.

"I think the French are hard to understand in general. Or maybe that was just him? He kept saying I was his 'ami de coeur' and I looked it up and it's like 'friend of the heart' or something. I think he had a thing for me." Milo said lightly, shrugging, and Mu almost choked. "What?" the Scorpio saint asked defensively at his companion's reaction.

"Well... To be honest, everyone whispered behind your back that you two had a 'thing' going... Not that it's any of my business."

Mu, ever the diplomat, had never spread the rumor or commented it to any of them. As far as he was concerned, he didn't believe it- though he wouldn't have been surprised to find he'd been wrong.

Milo stared at him dumbstruck before blushing furiously.

"Stupid Frenchies with their effeminate kisses and their fairy manners! No wonder no girl around here wants to go out with me!"

Mu patted his friend's back without being capable to contain his laughter, in spite of the death glare that earned him.

"Now, now," he said, unable to avoid sounding slightly mocking, "You weren't even the center of the rumors, so don't worry. Most of the time, people gossiped about Aphrodite or Misty. Except for the silver saints; they never gossiped about Misty..."

"Ah, well..." Milo said resignedly. "We're in Greece after all. It was bound to happen, I guess." he paused and Mu could already see the mood changing; his friend's blue eyes seem to darken slightly. "Mu, can I ask you something?"

The lilac haired man nodded and turned the fire off so he could focus his attention solely on his friend.

"Sure. What is it?"

"Have you...during the last few days," Milo hesitated a little, then took a deep breath and carried on. "Have you felt anything out of the ordinary?"

Of course he'd felt something. The Sanctuary was weirder than it had been in centuries, Mu would dare to say. But Milo knew that, and Mu knew that Milo knew. He had to be asking about something else.

"What do you mean, exactly?"

The Scorpio saint balanced his weight between one foot and the other nervously, hinting at whatever it was he was about to ask, to be the real reason for his current visit.

"Now, you'll think I'm crazy but... Would you believe me if I tell you I felt Camus' cosmo?"

Mu smiled reassuringly.

"Of course. It wouldn't be a first! The bronze saints are always feeling the spirit of the guys when they're fighting. They watch over us even if they're not here for us to see."

But Milo shook his head no, and the expression on his troubled friend's face let Mu know that it was far more serious and complicated than that.

"No," the Scorpio saint's brow knitted in a deep frown, "All these days that I've come here to talk to you about him, afterwards I'd look for his cosmo; and I even thought I could feel it, it comforted me at the end of the day; to think that he was still there somehow. But last night... Last night I went back to my temple and I *felt* it. I wasn't even looking for it and it just hit me; and it wasn't even there, at my temple...and it wasn't like all the other times... it was as if... as if his cosmo was burning more than ever... like when he was still alive... Then, as fast as it came, it was gone."

Mu was speechless. The conviction in which Milo had spoken left no room for doubt; the gold saint was telling the truth. But what did that mean?

What Milo was telling him was that Camus was somehow still alive? Had Milo actually felt Camus alive? Though it wouldn't be the first time that a saint would had mocked death in the face, there was no reason to believe Camus had, or even would do it, if he could.

At the Aries saint's lack of a reaction, Milo smiled sadly.

"You do think I'm crazy."

Ashamed, Mu had to admit that the most plausible explanation he could find was that Milo's grief had played dirty with him. In any way he thought his friend had lost his mind; it was simply that one's brain could be a treacherous thing when one wished something hard enough, when one was in pain.

He shook his head gently.

"Milo, my friend, I don't think you're crazy." Placing a hand on his friend's shoulder, Mu looked into his eyes in earnest. "You must understand that I don't know if I think what you felt was real, though."

"I felt it real enough." Milo spat defensively, shaking the hand off and lowering his gaze.

"Milo..." What could Mu tell him? If he said he believed him, he'd fill his friend with hopes that were probably unfounded, setting him up for a much bigger heartbreak. If he said he didn't...

And yet... There was something *serious* going on, that much was certain. He would be obtuse and completely ignorant of the past if he were to simply brush his friend's comment as a result of grief. In fact, hadn't he been thinking just a moment ago, that Milo was starting to overcome his grief?

He still could not lead Milo on. He was the last person who should be thinking about it. He had to find a way to take Milo's mind of the matter, if that was even possible. If Camus had somehow found his way back, something told Mu that it might not be with the best of intentions.

It wasn't that he had anything to say about Camus' character. There just was something in the air that assured him he couldn't know who to trust for certain anymore. A person who was supposed to be dead, walking amongst the living, would be particularly more suspicious than the rest.

"I'll tell you what," Mu said finally, with a pleasant and kind smile. "You set the table, I'll finish up here, and we'll talk about it some more over dinner. In any case. I promise to pay more attention and see if I feel it too. Ok?"

Milo nodded gratefully and proceeded to do as he'd been told.

* * *

_'Maybe I should have waited a while.'_ Shun thought, as he took a seat on one of the steps of the main stairs of the mansion. He hadn't thought about his blood loss causing him to feel so light headed and wobbly. He'd only made it half way downstairs before he had to sit down or risk falling the rest of the way.

The sun was about to rise and he couldn't sit there for long, otherwise Ikki would find him in a very compromising situation. Not only he would have to explain the blood on his brother's cloth or the bandage on his wrist, but he'd also have to explain why he was sneaking out with a duffel bag at five o'clock in the morning.

He eyed his wrist contemplatively. If he'd waited just a little more, he'd be dead now. It would have been so easy just to wait a little more, and escape what was to come in the most peaceful of ways. Why hadn't he?

It angered him, that he was so absorbed by his destiny that he didn't even considered fighting against it. It wasn't what he'd hoped his life would be like. But if he'd done that- if he'd let himself die- then everything would repeat itself in two hundred or so years. And then he didn't know how his life would be, what choices he'd make or if he'd ever remember his current plans. Nothing would ever change.

He had to put a stop to it.

For that though, he had to get to his feet and leave that place as fast as he could.

Just as he was getting up, using the rail for support, he felt a very powerful cosmos approaching, threatening to make him fall down again. It was an aura he knew all too well, and Shun felt his control slipping. An anger way deeper and sourer than what he'd ever felt before took over his being, scaring himself with those feelings. He wanted to kill this person, in the slowest and most painful way he could think of, over and over again.

Before he could stop himself, dry, bitter laughter escaped his lips and his chest constricted with an unbearable pressure and pain. He'd come for him, hadn't he? To stop him. But he wouldn't let anyone stop him. That his 'brother' was here only meant he had to change his plans a little.

The door opened- it was no surprise that he hadn't bother to knock- and his brother's blue eyes met his, wide with surprise.

"Have you come to pay your respects..." Shun said, in a voice so deep he hardly recognized it as his own. "Nii-san?"

* * *

"This is creepy; I'm telling you, we should get out of here!"

Shaina sighed; yeah sure, it was creepy, but this was coming from a guy who had two black wholes as eyes and white hair fixed as something out of a cheap eighties' sci-fi movie.

"We're waiting for Aioria, Nachi, and that's that."

"Why are we waiting for him, anyway?" Jabu interjected, "We should just go and tell Miss Kido. Leo shouldn't abandon his temple and you know it, Shaina."

Exasperated- really, who'd thought she'd be missing Seiya's stunts?- Shaina grabbed Jabu by the arm and forcefully made him turn around.

"See that?" she hissed and pointed up to a nearby hill, Jabu nodded. "What is it? What do you see?"

"Uh...the Leo temple." Jabu mumbled, a little embarrassed.

"Do you think Aioria would have much trouble getting there if he needed to?" He shook his head no. "Fine, because I wouldn't care if the Leo temple was five hundred miles away, I'm a silver saint, you're a bronze; you shut up and do as I say. Clear?"

The boy mumbled a reply and Shaina inwardly smiled. It was hard to be a woman at the Sanctuary, but she'd managed to create a reputation for herself. Everyone thought she was something boarding on psycho, and she sure was going to use it at her advantage.

From a distance, she saw the Leo saint approaching and she felt relieved and worried at the same time. Relieved because she could tell she was out of her depth with the matter at hand; worried, because of the way Aioria was looking at her. She'd noticed a few times now, that there was something resembling to what she used to see in Casius' eyes there.

Brushing the inconsequential matters of her mind, she focused on the scene before them and took the Gold saint aside as soon as he reached the lot of them.

"Sorry to call on you so late at night," she said in something akin to kindness.

"That's ok. Gachi made it sound important." He smiled at her, showing that he did not mind one bit to have his sleep interrupted to meet her.

Shaina frowned.

"It is. Aioria, look around." 'Around', meaning the graveyard they were standing in. The Leo saint did just that; at first in confusion, but soon Shaina saw his skin pale at least three tones. Surely, his eyes had landed on the graves of the Gold saints. "And some of them have been opened from the inside. You know what that means, don't you?"

Aioria nodded, dazed.

"There's just one person capable of bringing so many gold and silver saints out of their graves. This can't be good. We have to tell Athena immediately."

Shaina shook her head no, feeling frustrated. Even for a saint, this conversation was too bizarre for her taste.

"I'm sure that, if our suspicions are correct, Athena knows already. I'm more worried about *where* they've gone to. They can't be that far. And if they are... then it's just a matter of time until they come back."

Aioria suddenly gasped, as if realizing something. His eyes took on a glassy quality as he begun walking, slowly and robotically, towards one of the graves furthest away from them. Shaina knew were he was going, so she stopped him short, gently grabbing his arm.

"He's still there. His grave's intact." Relief washed over his face and his expression went back to normal, if still a little worried. "As soon as I found out about the situation, I checked... everyone."

If Casius hadn't been there, she'd have surely lost her mind. So she could understand that Aioria's first thought had gone to his brother.

Aioria looked at her straight in the eye and smiled.

"Thank you." he said honestly. He then frowned and moved to stare at Death Mask's empty grave. "Do you think...? Do you think they betrayed her? Do you think they had a choice?"

"I don't know," Shaina said gravely. From some of the guys who were missing, she wouldn't be surprised. But there were four graves- the four who seemed to have been dug from the outside- that she would have never thought she'd find empty under these circumstances.

It was as unnatural to her, as if she'd found Aiorios or Casius had joined the lord of the Underworld's army.

* * *

Sorrento shifted his gaze from Julian to the Andromeda saint. Shun didn't look at all like he remembered him, and they'd seen each other last just a couple of months before!

He remembered Shun to be the kindest of the bronze saints, never showing an ounce of hate, whether he was trying to kill you or not. Now the green haired boy had the most vicious and dark of expressions; one that made Sorrento's skin crawl.

Julian, for his part, looked in complete shock. It was obvious that whatever it was he'd found on the Andromeda saint was not what he'd expected. Sorrento took a protective step closer to the blue haired boy and whispered.

"What does he mean, calling you Nii-san?"

Julian shook himself from his shock and gave Sorrento a side way glance.

"I'll explain later," was all he said, taking a step towards Shun, whose smile just broadened dangerously. "Shun, I just need to..."

Abruptly standing from his seat, the Andromeda saint's expression changed to one of absolute rage.

"Don't you **dare** call me that!"

Both Julian and Sorrento took an instinctive step back, but the Sirern Shugun was fast to react and stand in front of Julian; the oath he'd made to protect him pulling him instinctively to act.

"We didn't come here to fight, Andromeda. Julian just wants to talk..." He'd tried to maintain his tone as calm and kind as he could. There was something in Shun's demeanor that let Sorrento know he wasn't being violent just because; he could see the despair in those usually peaceful eyes. A hand on his shoulder interrupted him though, and Sorrento turned to look at Julian's face filled with sadness.

"Stay out of it, please." Julian begged with his eyes. Sorrento was about to protest, but the other boy hushed him with a smile and an almost unnoticeable caress to his cheek. "It will be ok, please; just stay out of it."

"Thank you." Andromeda spoke to Julian, wearing that same vicious smile that somehow struck Sorrento as completely fake. "I don't want you to make me hurt any more innocent people just to get to you."

This time Sorrento snorted, his pride taking the better of him. What made Shun think it would be so easy to hurt him? He'd just won their battle because Athena had backed him up, and somehow Sorrento knew this wasn't the case anymore.

But his pride did not prepare him for what came next. Shun approached Julian calmly. On the outside, the boy was as graceful and elegant as he'd always been; the air of delicacy intact in his appearance. One look at the cosmo that started swirling around him and Sorrento gulped. This was *not* the cosmo he'd fought a few months back, was it?

Julian appeared impassive as the dark energy grew stronger, making it hard to breathe in that wide space that was the hall. Sorrento watched, fearful, as Shun circled his boyfriend in a predatory manner. The green haired boy was obviously looking down on Julian, regarding him disdainfully.

"So, she still has you grabbed by the balls? Why are you letting her?"

The curiosity on Shun's voice was enough to match Sorrento's confusion. Julian hadn't mentioned their reason for this trip, though he'd hinted at it and Sorrento had thought it was enough at the time. Now he realized he should have asked. He had no idea of what they were talking about, and it seemed as though it was important enough to know.

So he paid attention, watched every single movement of the Andromeda saint ready to strike in spite of Julian's orders if he deemed it necessary.

Julian, instead of reacting with a wounded pride at Shun's last comment, just smiled fondly and cocked his head to the side.

"I wasn't expecting you to be awake already." His tone was as kind as his expression, and that seemed to throw Shun off balance.

Julian took a step towards Shun. Apparently he knew what he was doing. Shun's expression didn't show it, but Sorrento could tell that he was scared. Not that he understood why Shun would be, specially at such an innocent remark. It was five a.m. after all. But Shun's hands were shaking ever so slightly, as were his knees.

Shun took a step back. It was almost as if they were sizing each other up. The Andromeda saint shook his head, his smile faltering.

"I'm... I'm not. I... " he rested his back to the nearest wall and put his head in his hands. "Why are you here?"

Shun was now on the verge of tears. _'What the hell is going on?'_ Sorrento thought. He didn't remember Julian having known Shun for long enough to cause such a reaction. He was missing something and he sure as hell was going to interrogate Julian about it later.

The blue haired man also seemed to notice the Andromeda saint's frail state. The expression on Julian's face was of pure guilt as he approached Shun and gently placed a hand on the broken boy's shoulder.

"I didn't come here to hurt you, Shun."

Again, the use of his name caused the green haired boy to jump, but this time it wasn't anger there in his eyes.

"Don't call me that!" he yelled, his voice raw with despair, as he threw himself at Julian, grabbing the older boy by the neck and practically stamping him against the wall.

Though up until that moment Sorrento would have said he didn't recognize the Andromeda saint at all, it was in that completely out of character show of violence, that he saw his former rival in that boy, and it was for that reason that he hesitated to react. For the time being, his boyfriend wasn't in any real danger.

Julian seemed unperturbed by the way things had turned out; or at least, not afraid by his situation. Brushing the green hair softly with his fingers, he smiled.

"Then what should I call you, brother?"

Shun pushed Julian violently against the wall several times; each time with less force, as it looked he was weakening at a considerable speed.

"I'm not! I'm not your brother! I'm not Shun, I'm nothing!" As he spoke, Shun's knees finally gave up on him, causing him to slid to the floor.

Julian caught him swiftly; by the time they were both kneeling down, Shun had passed out. It was only then that Sorrento could breathe properly again, and he saw that Julian also relaxed. Apparently he hadn't been as calmed as he'd first thought.

"This is wrong," Julian whispered with a deep frown, as he settled Shun safely in his arms. "He shouldn't be awake so soon. It doesn't make sense."

Sorrento knew he'd been talking to himself. Julian had probably forgotten he was even there. But his boyfriend had some explaining to do. He walked up to him with a severe expression on his face. He wasn't angry, but he would be in a minute, unless Julian started talking.

"You bet it doesn't make sense. Care to clarify a thing or two?"

* * *

It had been Julian Solo the one to call him and inform him of the situation. He'd been very surprised because of it. Not only to find that someone knew he was still alive, but that Julian had gone to him with his request. And through the phone!

What baffled him the most though, was the request. Why would Julian, of all people, ask *him* to come here and protect *her*?

And yet here he was; he, the one of the twins who was all evil, had come to the Sanctuary to protect the goddess. How messed up was that? Kanon sighed. Julian had been very informative of what was happening. For what he could reckon, he was probably- along Poseidon and Athena- the only one who was fully aware of the situation.

Knowledge was power, he knew that full well, but this time he was not tempted to use that knowledge to his advantage. Having heard about what had happened to his brother had made him glad at first; his hatred for Saga gloating on the humiliating end his brother had met.

But after his own failure, after seeing the consequences of his own actions, Kanon found he'd started questioning himself. Had it been worth it?

In the end, he didn't want to think about the possibility that there was some good in him. His reasoning was simple; Hades was mad and he intended to kill everyone and cover the world with darkness. That could *not* work to his advantage in *any* way. So he'd unite forces with the 'good guys' for the time being and maybe try to conquer the world later. He was just making sure there *was* a world to conquer, right?

Of course, the fact that there was the possibility of seeing Saga again and mending their relationship before his twin went back to the land of the dead was not a motivation. No way.

Kanon watched Athena getting up from her resting place. She was aware of his presence now. It was just a matter of convincing her he had no ulterior motive, for a change.

* * *

Pandora closed the curtain and frowned.

There was no one around to see the doubt on her face. Radamanthys was bound to return any time soon after dropping Athena's former saints at their destination, but she still had some time to think.

Ever since her little brother passed away, she'd had doubts. The explanation Hypnos and Thanatos had provided didn't make any sense. If his brother had been Hades reincarnated, then why kill him? Thanatos was the god of death; Hades himself was the lord of the underworld. The fact that her little brother had died didn't make any sense whatsoever.

But if that had been a lie, then why? Why would they need her? She wasn't special, she didn't have any special ability they could use to their advantage. The one thing she had was this castle though, and she had the suspicion that it wasn't just a castle. It was a gate between worlds.

Then why don't kill her as well? And who exactly was this person behind the curtain, this illusion? After all those years of taking care of him, she loved him like a brother; it reminded her of her brother. Was he, though?

Pandora sighed and sat next to her harp. She wasn't stupid; during all those years, she'd done some research of her own. She'd come to the conclusion that what she was so lovingly taking care of wasn't Hades, but his memories, that had taken corporeal form to deceive her and the specters.

The 'psyche', that's how the Greeks had called it. A being formed of a person's emotions and memories. It wasn't the person's soul, just residual information. She'd been taking care of a dream.

It had hurt like hell to realize that her brother had been dead all along, but she could not hate Hades for it. She knew him more than anyone and she thought she understood why he'd let her live. He'd desperately needed a companion. Someone to make the waiting until the day he could be reunited with his soul, more bearable.

Pandora knew all about what Athena and the others had done to him; she'd heard him talk and cry about it countless times. Though she could tell that the boy was very disturbed, she could feel his pain. It was her own. And though she knew he wasn't *exactly* a person, she also knew that he was a part of Hades; a window to him, if you will.

She loved him like a brother, and that was what mattered. Soon, the other- the boy she'd given Hades' pendant to- would take on his 'psyche', and they would be one again. She would finally be able to sooth him properly, to hold him in her arms and hush his pain away.

Every day that passed, the boy behind the curtain withdrew further and further away from her. Now he didn't even talk. He didn't feel at all there. She knew it would all be over soon and she couldn't wait.

_**TBC**_

_**(*) Civet is a kind of hare stew. My apologies to the French for not knowing any ordinary dish to place there. By the way, just because Milo made that rude comment, doesn't mean I (or Milo) have anything against France and it's lovely people (or gay people for that matter, obviously) . I actually am madly in love with France, so don't take it the wrong way.**_


	7. Ch6 Calm&Storm

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER SIX**

**THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM**

The Virgo temple was too quiet. Shaka had always liked how he could be alone in his temple, away from the world and it's weaknesses. For some time now, however, he'd stopped feeling comfort in his time alone, and started feeling the weight of his loneliness.

It was the doubt that made him feel the need for company. Doubt caused fear, and fear was proof that he was attached to something; you could only be afraid of losing something you're dependent on. Shaka did not like that. For dependence only meant he wasn't free of earthly desires. And it is desire that brings suffering, after all.

But what could he possibly desire, that he didn't already have? It was easy to rationalize his feelings until he could trace his loneliness all the way to that supposed desire he couldn't even dare imagine. But he wasn't philosophizing, he was thinking about *his* life; a *real* life.

So, Shaka thought, he'd have to put a distinct name to those emotions so easily rationalized. And he knew exactly where to start, even if he didn't want to. The doubt, he knew, had been planted there almost a year ago. He'd had his ideals so firmly set up in his mind. But then here he comes, a knight in shining amour defending justice and friendship, and making all his world shatter into little bits.

He didn't know what was real and what wasn't anymore; where he'd been right and where he'd been wrong. If he could be wrong to begin with- if he'd made a mistake- who's to know how many others he'd made during all his lifetimes? So there was doubt.

The fear? That was easy. He was afraid of losing the world he'd so fervently believed in. There's no greater fear than to wake up one day and realize you'd been deluding yourself all along. If life wasn't what he'd thought it was, did he want the life he'd made for himself?

The answer, he knew it, was a rotund no. And that led him to the desire. Oh, he didn't need to figure that one out. And, he thought smirking, as obvious as a conclusion as it was, he also knew it wasn't Ikki the one he desired. At least, it wasn't the desire that was bringing him pain.

Yes, Ikki had somehow found a way through every defense he'd put up around himself. Yes, the Virgo saint often found his meditation interrupted by annoying thoughts of the dark haired boy. He wasn't sure if it was love, or simply curiosity.

But he, more often than not, found his thoughts plagued with memories of that fleeting moment in time, when he and Ikki had both shared Nirvana. There was so much peace there; he didn't know where he ended and the others' souls begun. There hadn't been any doubt, any fear; no evil. He wasn't alone.

And then he was brought back. Or he'd come back, he didn't remember, nor he cared. What Shaka desired; what was bringing him so much pain, was death.

* * *

In the stillness of the night, their steps reverberated through the stone ruins; yet even the sound of metal on stone couldn't really break the deafening silence of their anticipation.

The six shadows walked in organized procession, the leader alone at the front, followed by other three. The last two walked behind, slightly separated from the rest, and that's just how the others liked it, too.

Shura couldn't find it in him to lift his head and look at anything besides his feet; his conscience weighing too heavy on his mind to let him do so. This was surreal. The most faithful of saints, selling his soul to Hades for renewed life. It just couldn't be happening.

Of course he knew that he had no reason to feel regret. He hadn't truly sold his soul. But he was marching swiftly through what used to be his home, ready to kill his friends if they got in his way, supposedly meaning to cut Athena's head.

Would Athena see through the lie? God, he hoped so! He wouldn't bear to see the betrayal in her eyes; not again.

A hand rested on the small of his back, taking him out of his musings and Shura looked up to see Saga's face filled with understanding.

"We're not betraying her," the blue haired man whispered, as if he'd been reading his thoughts.

Shura nodded tersely. Who'd have thought that Saga, of all people, would be the one to understand how he felt the most? But it was obvious; Saga hadn't meant to betray Athena either, and had found himself doing it anyway. Their stories had been very different, but the outcome was the same. Guilt.

Camus turned his head to look at them with a small frown. It was obvious that the ice saint didn't approve of their display, and Shura could understand why. Aphrodite and Death Mask were just a few steps behind them. Any sign of regret could have their plan backfiring in an instant.

But Shura wasn't as cool headed as Camus was. He found himself envying the Aquarius saint's temperance. It made him one hell of a bad friend, but most definitively a reliable comrade.

Shion stopped just feet away from the Aries temple and turned to look at them all. The remaining five gathered in front of him, awaiting orders.

"Do you all know what to do?" the former pope said, his gaze lingering on the three that were in his favor. Those words had a completely different meaning to them.

The five nodded gravely. But before they could resume their walk, one of them held up a hand and smirked. It was Death Mask, and Shura had to do a great deal of effort not to show his alarm. There was something about that man that didn't go well with him. Maybe it was the fact that he was a psycho?

"There's a slight change in plans, I'm afraid." The former Cancer saint declared lightly. Shura glanced at Saga and Camus and found them both showing as much apprehension as he felt.

"What do you mean?" Shion asked cautiously.

"I think we," the former Cancer saint motioned to Aphrodite, who gave them a smug smile; the others just glared at them. "Should go in first."

Now, you have to understand the importance of their mission. They'd been willing to publicly betray Athena, so that they could help in a way only *they* could help. Nothing, absolutely *nothing*, could go wrong. The suggestion- though it'd sounded more like a command- for a change of plans was not something they could deal with so easily; especially coming from *those* two.

"And why's that?" Shion's tone was weary.

The Capricorn saint could see the disgust in the former pope's eyes as he spoke, but he could recognize that the green haired man was doing his best to refrain from showing it.

Aphrodite stepped in; the fair saint walked up to Shion wearing a coy smile and Shura inwardly smirked. Old habits died hard, ne?

"You know?" Aphrodite almost purred. "We were busting our brains out trying to figure out why you lot, of all people, would accept Hades' offer. You have to admit, it's rather suspicious." The former Piscis saint said with a lopsided smile on his face.

Shura's breath caught on his throat. They couldn't suspect, they couldn't! If they knew... then everything would be lost. There was no way to stop them from running to Hades to rat them out. They couldn't even kill them; that would just mean that Hades would find out a lot faster!

He wasn't the only one in shock, though. Shion's expression was of pure panic for a moment, and Saga was fuming. Shura figured their reactions had been more than eloquent, but it was too late to dwell on that. Only Camus stood unperturbed, watching the scene carefully.

Saga took a menacing step forward, hands clenched into fists, and Shura feared he'd lose it and kill them right on the spot. Shion must have thought so too, because he raised a hand in warning.

"So, it's true," The Pisces saint said, mock surprise. "Why, you deceiving little devils!"

Death Mask snickered.

"We're going first." the Cancer saint declared, as if it was him who had the last word. Well, maybe it was.

"Look!" Shion began, all kindness or caution forgotten. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm leading this mission and *I* decide when there's a change in plans."

Camus showed the first sign of a reaction as he stepped forward, shaking his head no.

"I think you should do as they say, Shion," he stated, deadly calmed.

"What?" Saga voiced everyone else's question, rather heatedly too. "Has the ice finally frozen you brain, Camus? Who knows what they're up to!"

"Do you really think," the Aquarius saint began, just the slightest hint of a smile on his lips, "that they don't know our plans already?" At everyone's simultaneous gasp, Camus closed his eyes and sighed. "They were gold saints too, remember?"

"I'd rather forget." Shura muttered.

Cancer and Pisces seemed completely unperturbed by his comment, or their reactions; in fact, they looked amused. Camus went on.

"They know. And they're still here. What's more important, *we* are still here. I don't know their motivations; surely it's not loyalty. But they're with us. We would be back in the underworld otherwise."

Death Mask clapped mockingly and laughed.

"Well, at least one of you has a brain!"

"Why?" Shion asked with a frown and a tone filled with mistrust. "Why would you side with us? Last thing I heard, you died fighting Athena!"

"Uhm, true," Death Mask conceded sheepishly. "But really, what are the odds of Hades winning this battle? Just look at history!" He waved a hand in the air for a dramatic effect, and Aphrodite snickered. "If we fight for Hades, we'll end up back at Tartarus(*), no chance of ever coming back. This way, at least we can hope Athena will take it easy on us. And if not, well... Twelve hours is a good enough vacation from hell." The last came out almost in a whisper.

Shura was astonished. The night was growing more and more bizarre by the minute. He'd never thought he'd ever feel sorry for the Cancer saint; he certainly wasn't one to provoke sympathy. But almost a year in hell will do that to a person, Shura guessed.

"And so," Aphrodite spoke next, and Shura got the impression that he was being more sober than usual. "We go first. Mu will never fully believe you've sold yourselves to the enemy. But he'd believe it coming from us."

Shion was wide eyed, probably as shocked at finding himself agreeing with those traitors as Shura was.

"If he sees you first, he won't doubt us." The former pope breathed, as if he'd just experienced an epiphany.

"Let's go, then. There's no time to waste." Camus stated simply, Saga and Shura exchanged puzzled looks, but they still did as Camus said.

Their pace was a firm one, a somber one, as they reached the Aries temple, ready to kill or be killed- or both- for the sake of a world that had all but forgotten about them.

* * *

Something- not a noise, not a nightmare- had managed to violently pull Ikki out of his restless slumber. His eyes, still blurred and unfocused, darted around the room and, in spite his confusion, the first thing he noticed was the lack of a sleeping boy in his arms.

He should have probably felt worry and concern; he should have probably leaped out of bed to go searching for his brother, but something in him prevented him from getting up, from feeling anything.

It was the smell, he realized; the room was soaked with a coppery aroma, strong enough for him to taste. An aroma he was way too familiar with. Blood. And Ikki felt a tight pressure in his chest. He didn't dare look around and find the source of that smell, because he had his suspicions.

"Shun?" he whispered, half frightened, half angry. But there was no answer.

At least, he thought, Shun's cosmo was still there. At least, he knew his brother was still alive; though it would be a cold day in hell before he found any comfort in feeling just how dark and bitter Shun's cosmo had become.

It was the other two cosmos that forced him into action.

He bolted out of bed, blindly reaching for his cloth. What were they doing there? He needn't be a genius to put two and two together and realize his brother's absence, plus the blood, were probably related to those two presences that he'd last known as enemies.

The cloth came to him immediately, instinctively, covering his form. Ikki gasped, as his cosmo burned with that of the Phoenix. There was something off; the cloth felt different; it was choking him.

So much more powerful than before, it breathed new life; a dangerous life. Ikki fell to his knees. The spirit of the cloth tapped against his own, seeking entrance and, as much as Ikki tried to repel the dark energy, the Phoenix was a part of him already. (**)

He had to gather a great deal of strength to just turn his head and look at the box that had held the cloth a moment before. Ikki's heart stopped. It was from there that the smell of blood came from. Of course, the cloth had absorbed most of it, made it its own, but the box was still coated with it.

"Shun..." he called out again, his voice breaking.

It was Shun's blood. He could tell, because it still had Shun's cosmo warming it. But as much as his cloth- as the Phoenix and Shun's cosmo- were burning his skin, on the inside, Ikki felt cold.

It was so dark, so bitter. One thing was to feel that around his brother; another thing was to feel it seeping into himself, awakening memories and feelings he'd thought himself way past from. Bitterness, anger, loneliness; he knew them well, and they were his again.

"Shun..."

No love, no friendship. Alone. All there was, was death. Everyone he loved died or betrayed him. There was nothing but death, and hate. Alone, he was all alone.

The fire in him was turning black again. It burned. It froze him. Not a single soul who could know how it felt to be so alone; no one to trust but himself.

It was overwhelming; because he was no stranger to these sensations. He would lose himself; he would forget why he'd stopped aching. The cloth and him were one. The hate and him were one. It was his blood.

_~I'm sorry, Nii-san.~_

"Shun!" He gasped, his lungs finally filling with air again.

Ikki took a few more deep breaths and got on his feet, the voice he'd just heard in his mind had given him the strength to break free. Shun had been the one to set him free. Those feelings were his, and he knew how to deal with them. Shun needed him.

* * *

The Siberian wind wasn't being kind with the inhabitants of the small, forgotten town in which Hyoga was currently spending his evening. The weather was so awful that, as he looked out the window from Jacob's living room, he was grateful of not having to endure such a storm inside that battered old cabin of his.

But he didn't care much for social reunions and Jacob and his grandfather were currently entertaining some guests- a usual occurrence during such cruel winters. He separated himself from the group and alternated his gaze from them to the snow falling mercilessly outside. They were all laughing and sharing anecdotes around the hearth, each holding a cup of warm cocoa.

The scene was so alien to him that the Cygnus saint couldn't fight the sadness that it arose in him. He'd never known the warmth of a family and, looking at the group of friends in their mirth, he wasn't sure he even knew friendship. Yes, he and the other saints had been kindred spirits; he'd trust them with his own life. But they'd never shared peace; never laughter or a moment of leisure. They always split up during those times.

In his mind, death still seemed like the better option. He didn't quite remember why he'd let Jake drag him to his house in the first place, but he was starting to regret it. Whatever connection he'd felt with his young friend, seeing him so happy and loved had shattered the illusion.

_'That dream',_ he thought, frowning in spite himself. It was still haunting him, filling him with dread and hope at the same time. Was it a premonition, or his subconscious telling him what he wanted?

Maybe living with one foot in the grave wasn't such a great idea. Maybe he should just stop mourning, once and for all. His mother, Crystal, even Camus and Isaac, would have wanted him to. But perhaps, he just didn't care about what people who'd abandoned him wanted.

_'They didn't abandon me'_, he reasoned. No, they hadn't abandoned him, that was true. He'd killed them. So why couldn't he dispose of his own life as he'd done with so many others? He clenched his mother's rosary that still hung from his neck.

It was a sin; his thoughts were a sin. But to which god? Did he believe in *any* god? The god of his childhood must have been a lie. How could there be an Athena, if his god existed? He'd never been one to blame God of his misfortune. It would have been terribly unfair- or so his mother had taught him- to ask God to strip others from their free will so one wouldn't suffer. Humans caused other humans to suffer, and all God could do was walk beside you, hold you and comfort you, if you let him.

But it wasn't true. There was no god to comfort him, no god to walk him through life. There were only a bunch of power-crazy maniacs with too much strength for their on good. And Athena. A girl, just a girl. And one he didn't even like that much, even if he was loyal to her.

The rattle of glass shook him out of his reverie. The wind was blowing even harder, making the windows tremble. None in the house noticed, though; nor were they *seeing*, like Hyoga was, the perfect definition of the snowflakes. They didn't notice how the wind had stopped blowing from the west and was now circling their house, and their house alone.

Hyoga was frozen in place; he didn't react, he couldn't

"That... That cosmo..." he half whispered, half hissed.

_~'Come out, Hyoga. I'm waiting.'~_

His heart leaped with joy. Though he wasn't sure if it was joy, exactly, but it was the first thing he'd felt in ages. Hyoga jumped from his seat and ran out of the house, ignoring Jacob's startled questions. There was just too much snow for him to see anything.

_'Where are you?' _he thought, anxiously. His cosmo was everywhere.

"Master!" he called, trying to make his voice audible over the loud wind. "Master, I can't see you!"

Hyoga was feeling... giddy, for a lack of a better term. He felt happy. Not once he'd stopped to think what that presence could mean. Not once he'd doubted.

_'He's back! He really is back!'_

_~'Do you know why I came, Hyoga?'~_ His master asked, again in his mind.

It was impossible to see anything beyond white, to hear anything but the screaming air hurting his ears; it was getting harder and harder just to remain standing. A feeling of dread crept up Hyoga's heart, but he wouldn't acknowledge it. There was nothing to fear.

Yet his master's cosmo felt... now that he was paying attention. _'No!' _Hyoga thought, shaking his head._ 'It's not possible.'_

_'It's not like him being here in the first place is possible' _his reason interjected, as his thrill upon hearing Crystal's voice began to subside.

"No, master; I don't." Hyoga admitted at last. "But I don't care, just let me see you!"_ 'Please, just let me know this isn't another dream,' _he prayed.

_~'Very well'~ _Crystal's voice was heavy, filled with sadness and in turn, filling Hyoga with dread.

The wind blew even harder, forcing the Cygnus saint to kneel down. The first thing he saw was the gleam of the Crystal saint's cosmo at a distance. He wasn't sure of just how distant it was, though; his field of vision was severely limited to a sea of white.

Finally, he could discern the shadowy form of the man he'd thought of as a father, walking towards him. He wanted to get up and run to meet him. For a fleeting moment, he even thought about hugging him, though the idea never got to take form.

Like a slap on his face, the wind he now knew was Crystal's doing, kept him in place. Hyoga was stunned, shocked by the force of the blow and the vision of his master clad in a black cloth, so much like his previous one, but with a darkness about it that wasn't a result of the color. Just like in his dreams, he noted. So, seeing as the Cygnus saint wasn't saying anything, Crystal spoke again; this time out loud.

"I've come here to kill you."

* * *

Julian placed Shun gently on the sofa, brushing the boy's bangs tenderly. He looked so frail and delicate, and yet he knew that was a deception to his senses. In a good day, Shun was very deadly indeed. Now he was beyond dangerous. Not only because of *whose* soul he bared, but because he was terribly unstable now, thanks to it.

If Julian had known he was already awake, he'd never come the way he did. He would have certainly left Sorrento behind; he'd never intended to put his love in danger. He wouldn't have come unannounced either; that was bound to provoke Hades' most dark emotions to surface. But what's done is done and he couldn't afford any second thoughts. He was here for a reason; this turn of events just complicated things a little.

At least, he figured, he'd gotten there before Shun left. Eying the bandaged wrist and the duffel bag laying beside the foot of the stairs, he knew it had been a close call. If Shun managed to leave without hearing him out, then hell would have broken loose. Well, that could still happen, Julian thought tiredly, but at least he had a chance to prevent it this time.

Just by looking at the boy, Julian could tell he wasn't coping so well. And who could blame him? Even he, himself, had one hell of a hard time when he realized there was more to him than what he'd believed all his life. Shun's case was a lot more complicated, though.

The blue haired man took the pendant hanging from his little brother's neck between his fingers- testimony of the atrocities himself and the others had brought upon him- feeling his eyes burn with unshed tears. Still he smiled fondly.

"You were always so unpredictable, huh? Always causing me a headache," he whispered. "I'm sorry, brother." Julian placed a tender kiss on the sleeping boy's brow, one stray tear traveling down his cheek. "I'm going to make it up to you, I promise. All you have to do is give me a chance."

He heard the distinct sound of someone clearing his throat and Julian turned around to find Sorrento eying him with the most adorable of pouts. Of course, he'd never tell his love that he pouted when he was frustrated; that would just earn him an early death. But as cute as Sorrento looked at the moment, Julian knew he had some explaining to do.

The problem was, he didn't know where to begin. Should he admit that he'd lied to his love all this time? Was he ready to lose him? There had to be a way. The god of the seas stood, walking up to the other boy cautiously, watching every single change of Sorrento's beautiful eerie eyes. He was angry, but not dangerously so.

"I'm still waiting for an explanation; and it better be a good one."

"Sorrento..." Julian rested his head on the boy's shoulder, circling his waist. Relief washed over him when the other boy returned the embrace." I... Where do I start?"

"You could tell me why you lied about Poseidon?" Sorrento whispered in his ear, making Julian jump.

He lifted his eyes to stare deeply into Sorrento's.

"You...you know?"

"Now, I do. And not because you bothered to tell me." Sorrento scolded, but his gaze softened a moment later and he brushed Julian's hair tenderly. "But I guess I understand."

"I'm sorry," he breathed, pulling Sorrento for a hug. "I couldn't tell you. Forgive me."

"So it's true? You're still... What are you, exactly?"

Julian sighed deeply.

_'You wouldn't be able to handle it, if I answered that in earnest.' _he thought, but still came up with a slightly truthful answer. "I'm Poseidon, reincarnated, of course."

"But Athena!" Sorrento sounded alarmed, as if it was the first time the thought crossed his mind. "If she finds out, then..."

Julian shushed him with a kiss.

"She knows. And, as Shun so eloquently put it, she has me by the balls. There's no danger for us. At least not coming from her."

The other boy chuckled a bit, relaxing in his arms.

"Just which one of your relatives is he? I lost track a while back."

Julian had to smile at that, even if the thought brought him sadness.

"He's my brother," he said fondly, as if there were memories of bright times shared between them. Oh, there were, but they weighed nothing against the suffering. He sighed. "Shun's... he's Hades."

Sorrento pulled back, eyes wide with shock and Julian knew it wasn't because of reality, but because of what humanity remembered of his brother. Humanity hadn't been exactly fair with him but, the sad part was Julian knew if Sorrento had been aware of the truth, he'd be even more scared; and maybe not so forgiving.

"Hades?... But he's... he's..."

"Shhh, it'll be ok." Julian took Sorrento's face in his hands, gently caressing his cheeks with his thumbs. "I'll make it alright."

Their lips brushed softly, tentatively, and Julian felt shivers overtake him. The reality of it all was finally sinking in. There was a *big* chance that this would be the last moment of peace he'd be able to share with his love. Probability wasn't on his side; he could very well die in the battle that was to come, and he'd be lucky if that was all that happened to him. He deserved a lot worse.

_'Please,' _he begged, though he didn't know to whom he was begging, and pulled Sorrento closer to him. _'Please, don't let this moment end.'_

In the midst of their kiss, that was growing heated at an alarming pace, they failed to notice the figure looming over them atop the stairs. They didn't feel the presence, nor heard the footsteps, both clinging to that moment desperately.

* * *

Down by the Rozan waterfall, an old master left the spot he'd guarded for over 243 years, uttering a prayer for his pupil.

A saint, a boy, mulled in silence and in darkness about his uncertain future.

A girl saw, with alarm, how three figures clad in black cloaks came to take away the peace she so cherished, and the boy she loved even more.

In a forgotten castle in Germany, a young woman saw the shadow of her brother disappear completely and smiled.

A general watched this, hidden in shadows, planning his next move.

Somewhere in Tokyo, two lovers shared a kiss tainted with the flavor of finality.

A brother watched, for some reason compelled to let them have that moment, before time started running again, taking them all with it.

A boy, a god- a demon- opened his eyes, fully aware for the first time in his life.

In Siberia, a young man could do nothing but watch, as his dreams come true, turned into nightmares. As he was forced to fight his father again.

Back in Greece, one young man bid a friend good night after sharing a delicious dinner and a warm talk, and stepped outside his temple to look at the stars.

Six renegades observed him, preparing themselves for their tasks. Some with heavy hearts, some with a familiar thrill invading them.

A young woman fought against the feelings she had for two boys. One she loved more than she could handle, and one that would die at her hands, already stained with blood.

A grieving friend went back home.

A young man thought about the woman who'd won his heart.

One brother defied orders to find his sister, while another went against his every principle and did the right thing.

A Gold saint, a virtuous man, held his rosary tight. 108 beads for each life wasted; 108 chances to go back.

The beads started to gleam. Shaka smiled and whispered to no one.

"I'm coming."

_**TBC**_

_**(*)Tartarus is a place of punishment in the Underworld, where all bad boys who don't finish their soup and keep corpses in their rooms go.**_

_**(**) Cloths are alive, right? I swear I remember Ikki saying his cloth had a cosmo. I feel they have an identity of their own. If that's bull, pretend it's not for this story.**_

**_To avoid confusion, I'm going to list every character that appeared on that last section in order: Dohko, Shiryu, Shunrei, Pandora, Radamanthys, Julian & Sorrento, Ikki, Shun/Hades, Hyoga, Mu, Shion and the others, Saori, Milo, Aioria, Seiya, Kanon (these last four all in the same paragraph) and last but not least Shaka._**


	8. Ch7 Loyallty&Treason

_**Since there's some parallels with the actual Hades chapter and I, without realising, might be omitting some things of relevance assuming you all know what's going on, I'll put a little summary of where the HC is in correspondence to my story. Check that out at the end of the chapter.**_

_**Enjoy!**__  
_  
**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**LOYALTY AND TREASON  
**

_Their plan was working. Humanity was willing and able to kneel before them. They even had cities and temples built in their name. It was too good to be true._

_Some of the half demons saw it unfit to live amongst humans, the 'god' title going to their inflated heads. The wisest among them though, saw in Olympus too much danger. It was too much of a transgression and it was way too close to heaven for comfort._

_They had secured themselves property over humanity through a human flaw. As the demons were half humans, they discovered that they too, could come back after passing. The name they'd done for themselves- the structures society had built to honor them- would do the rest of the work._

_So they, in favor of the Olympians, lived on earth. Some in populated, growing towns, some secluded in their own sanctuaries; all of them indulging in perversions and belligerent acts. All dragging confused and battered human souls with them. All but one._

_As it happens in every family, there was a black sheep. While they conquered and fought, while they schemed and corrupted, one of them stood aside. He was as luminous as the brightest of angels and innocent as the smallest child. He cared not for wars and manipulation, preferring to contemplate the wonders of creation._

_Yes, this was a creature of God, in spite his torrid origins. His brothers and sisters- Olympians most of them, and of the first generation- saw in him a purity that was dangerous. He'd inherited all the characteristics of an angel, as they were before the fall. His humanity made him even purer, for as tainted by flesh as he was, his heart remained clean._

_He was contented with a simple, peaceful life. His days he spent alone, for his siblings had made sure he had no place amongst humans; but he'd forgiven them. His solitude was a welcome one and, in his innocence, even they he loved._

_Zeus, his brother of all people, decided he was a weak link in the plan they'd forged. It was probably the truth, too. But he couldn't simply rid of his younger brother. Hades might have been pure, but he was far from stupid._

_No; Zeus needed to win him over to his side. There had to be a way to lure him to his ways and then, just then, dispose of him in the cruelest of ways. And Zeus might have been many things, but he was far from being resourceless. He knew very well how to seduce and he knew his brother's Achilles' heel._

_It was love, of course. The same love that had been his salvation, would be Hades' perdition._

* * *

She knew he would come, no matter what. For a moment she'd even regretted asking him to meet her in the first place, but she knew there hadn't been a way for her to anticipate the events that had followed, even if the Sanctuary had felt strange.

Marin had seen a lot in all her years in Greece. She could smell trouble a mile away, but she'd never expected Athena to ban the bronze saints altogether.

Now all she could do was watch with mild concern and quite a bit of pride as Seiya climbed up a very high risk. That boy should be afraid of heights by now; yet here he was, climbing his way to her, just so he could find Seika.

That boy didn't have the brightest of minds, but he had a will of iron and that, more often than not, had been all they had needed. Someone who'd fight with all his heart and the best of intentions.

How many times Marin had wanted to tell him that Seika was- always had been- just next door? But she hadn't. She'd always known Seika was the only reason Seiya was fighting. Sure, with time, Seiya himself had forgotten that that was his reason. And he sure cared about Athena. But if he'd found his sister, then he would have had something to lose; then he wouldn't have been so selfless in battle, so mindless of his own life.

So she kept quiet. There was even a time when she'd let him believe she was his sister, just to keep him fighting. It was low, disloyal, but she was ready to do it. They couldn't afford to lose him. He was the soul of that group. If he stepped aside, then it was just a matter of time before the others did as well. Hell, maybe she would have.

Marin suddenly gasped, her attention diverted from her former student. There was the darkest of energies coming from the temples. Shaina had mentioned something about her suspicions of Hades coming back, but they hadn't even talked that long and Marin hadn't seen or heard anything to confirm it. Until now.

Apparently, Seiya felt it too, because he turned his head towards the direction of the cosmo with a deep frown and started speeding up his climbing.

So she wished; she wished in her heart she could go back in time and tell Seiya the truth. She wished she'd spared him the pain and the suffering of the life he now had. Because she knew this battle would be different from all the others, and maybe this time there wouldn't be an after, so she could tell him the truth.

Marin considered it for two seconds before starting to run, as fast as she could, towards Rodorio. Maybe there was still time to stop him. Perhaps there was still time to give him something to lose.

* * *

"Diamond Dust!"

Crystal threw yet another blow at the Cygnus saint, but again, the blond didn't retaliate. He just took everything that was thrown at him and tried, the best he could, to remain standing.

More than throwing punches at him, Crystal felt like slapping him. What was wrong with that boy? Here he was, pointedly threatening his life, and all Hyoga did was stand there?

"Aren't you going to defend yourself?" he asked, angered by the boy's passiveness. But Hyoga just lowered his gaze; he didn't even bothered to answer. "Are you so intent on dying, you stupid boy!"

Crystal had been observing Hyoga for long enough to know that his 'son' had lost the will to live. Could he blame him? Probably not; but he still would knock some sense into him if he could.

Hades had commanded the resuscitated saints to hunt down their former comrades and friends, and he hadn't even had the guts to ask it to their faces. But that woman, Pandora, hadn't seemed to enjoy asking that of them.

Crystal had almost felt like she was testing them. And he, himself, had been surprised at how many of the former Athena's saints hadn't even doubted to ally themselves to the enemy in exchange for new life. He guessed whatever Pandora, and Hades, had wanted to prove had turned out just the way they'd expected it to.

But he'd seen in that command, the chance to go back and warn Hyoga of what was happening. That would certainly ensure him a punishment worse than the lowest pits of hell, but he hadn't cared. Hyoga had meant more to him than that.

Now though, he felt angry. It was getting easier and easier to beat the crap out of that boy that would do nothing to defend himself. This was not a time to be feeling sorry for oneself. If Hyoga let himself die, then he'd have an eternity to regret it. There had to be a way to wake him up of his self pity.

"C'mon! Fight!" He struck again, slamming Hyoga against a wall of ice formed with his last attack.

Hyoga fell limply on his face, making Crystal fear he'd put too much strength into the blow. But almost immediately the blond was pushing himself up, albeit with a little effort. He sighed in frustration. This was getting tiresome.

Time was running out. Twelve hours and it wouldn't matter if he'd managed to keep the pretense up. Crystal seriously hoped Hyoga knew how to teleport, else it would be a fat chance of him getting to the Sanctuary in time.

"Master..." Hyoga choked out; the Crystal saint had to strain his ears to make out the words. "Why...why are you doing this?"

Now, maybe it would have been a lot simpler just to come out and tell him the truth. But it wasn't the way Saints worked. If he had to cajole Hyoga into doing what he knew he had to, then he'd failed as a master. Hyoga had to realize for himself that his attitude was wrong. So Crystal smirked, ready to keep on acting.

"Why? Is it that you can't feel it? Even from this faraway part of the world I can feel the darkness enveloping the Sanctuary." The blond boy winced visibly at this. "Because Athena's going down. You and all your friends will die. At this moment there's other silver saints making sure it is so. I asked to deal with you personally, though; I just thought I owed you as much."

Hyoga stood up, his eyes downcast. It tore Crystal's heart, but there wasn't any other way. _'So, now that you know, what are you going to do?'_ he thought, hopeful at seeing some kind of reaction.

"Why you?" the boy asked again, voice filled with puzzlement and hurt. "After everything that's happened, why...?"

"You are asking me?" he said sarcastically. "After all your friends have done for you, here you are, letting yourself die; making it easier on the enemy. Who are you to judge me? I have my reasons for changing sides. What are yours?"

The blond looked down and winced again. He clenched his hands into fists, tensing every single muscle. Soon, his shoulders had slumped again; but Crystal had seen it, he was getting through to him.

"I don't... I can't keep on fighting." the Cygnus saint stated, sounding awfully defeated.

"Perhaps you can't..." Crystal sighed, his stand changing from one of fight to one of resignation. "Perhaps all I thought you to be was a delusion on my part." Hyoga did look up at this, eyes pained and confused. "You don't care that your friends will die; you don't even care that all you've fought for in the past, that has you so tired, will crumble. All you care about is yourself."

"No!" the boy gasped, horrified. "That's not..."

"If I kill you here and now," Crystal interrupted, "You know it'll cost your friends a lot more to win. Hell, in every past battle, you lot barely made it to the end as it was! With one of you dead before it starts, it's no wonder how it's going to turn out!"

Hyoga hesitated, standing a little straighter. Crystal knew then, he was succeeding. Not everything was lost.

"But... I can't fight you! Not again!" the blond declared, this time passionately, while his eyes filled with tears.

"So you're letting me kill you?" Crystal reasoned, "I consciously came here to do it, you know? No one washed my brain this time. Is it that none of your friends is worth more to you than someone who's trying to end your life? Don't you care about them, any of them, at all?"

Bull's-eye, he thought, as he saw Hyoga gathering his cosmo. He wouldn't let it go far; he would not cause his son more pain after all he'd gone through. But he'd reacted.

He had a strange feeling Hyoga would be more important to this battle than the rest. Call it a hunch, he just knew it.

* * *

The bodies of Dante, Argol and Capella lay still around them, making a gory sight.

Shiryu shuddered, feeling the rush of adrenaline subsiding now that the danger was gone. He wanted to laugh, to cry. A moment ago, his heart had been pounding hard, and not with fear. A moment ago, he'd fought three silver saints, in serious disadvantage, and come up as the winer. He'd felt so alive!

He could feel Shunrei's presence right behind him. She was silent, but she didn't have to say the words for him to know what she was asking. Shiryu couldn't bring himself to face her. What would he say? 'I'm sorry, but you don't make me feel half as alive as when I'm killing baddies'?

But it was the truth. Even now, just her presence was enough to make him feel tied to a life he didn't want. Ever fiber of his being screamed for the battle. He wanted, desperately, to go after his master. Who wanted a normal life? Most people spent their entire lifetimes moaning about how boring, inconsequential their lives were. He was lucky, really, to be able to make a difference. Why change that?

He turned to face the waterfall, that so often had been witness to his meditations. He was going to fight again; he knew it, Shunrei knew it, there was no need for words. But he did feel a pang of guilt when she placed a hand to his heart in silent pleading.

He really wanted to love her more; it would have been wonderful if she'd been enough. He almost decides against leaving when he placed a hand on top of hers. She was warm, she was alive. Why was fighting, killing, more appealing than that? Oh, he so wanted to find life more appealing!

Eventually he pushed her hand away, already stretching his cosmo to find his friends. He mumbled an apology, trying his best not to let her sobs affect him, and he was gone. Gone to the life he knew, whether it was the one for him or not.

* * *

Shion's breath caught on his throat at the sight of his former apprentice. The young man had been taking a peaceful stroll around the gallery of his temple when he'd obviously sensed their presence. Now he was walking with sharp eyes and tense muscles, making a powerful image of himself.

_'You've grown so much.'_ The former pope thought with a small smile.

The image of a young boy, with striking lilac hair and a soul far more beautiful, invaded Shion's mind. Mu'd been only seven when he'd died, and had already had the burden of being a gold saint over his shoulders. But not once he'd lost his smile.

Mu was such a peaceful spirit. During his learning, he'd often asked why they couldn't resort to other means of persuasion. Shion, being a man who loved peace himself, would try his best to explain that, sometimes, in order to maintain peace, you had to play by the violents' rules.

Shion shook the memories away; they would do him no good. Fate had put him in the position of having to choose between peace, or the respect and affection- maybe even the life- of his most beloved pupil.

He stepped forward, intentionally making his presence known. Mu didn't recognize him, of course, but with the kindest of tones, he spoke.

"Stop right where you are." It was a command, yet Shion wondered how he managed to be so polite and intimidating at the same time. "Take another step, and you'll loose your life."

And then Shion saw it. Mu's eyes, they were downcast, saddened; as if he'd been expecting a battle and was sad to find his expectations fulfilled. _'You were never one to enjoy war, were you?' _The former pope smiled, knowing that his cloak would conceal it.

"Mu, there's no way you could lay a finger on me." He tried his best to keep all emotion from his voice, even after seeing his pupil's startled expression.

"What?" Mu breathed, taken aback by the familiar voice.

"Don't you recognize my face?"

Mu did a double take. Thirteen years before, just the sound of Shion's voice would have been enough for the lilac haired boy to recognize him; but Shion was supposed to be dead; Mu would have never expected to hear his voice again and that was evident by the utter shock his face was showing at that moment.

"No..." Mu breathed, "That's impossible...you..."

But even with the shock, the confusion, Shion could see hope, even happiness in Mu's face. The beginning of a smile that broke Shion's heart, for it would be short lived.

It was better to kill any hope rising in his beloved pupil's heart fast; this would be painful for them both, there was no need to make it worse.

"How very disrespectful of you..." Shion said in his coldest tone, "Kneel down before your master!"

If Mu had been in full use of his senses, if Mu hadn't been so shocked, just the uttering of those words would have been enough of a hint for him to know something wasn't quite alright. He was taken aback by the request, and for a moment, Shion hoped he'd see through the act.

The Shion he'd known would have never made him feel inferior; the Shion he'd known was more like a father than a master. But the Shion he'd known also had something to do.

"What?" Shion spoke again, seeing Mu frozen in place. "Didn't you hear my command?"

Mu knelt down, his face showing he was ashamed, scared, and Shion felt his resolve faltering. _'After all this time; you're still loyal to me?'_

The question here was how loyal. The last thing Shion wanted was Mu getting the wrong idea and suddenly deciding to rise against the Sanctuary, as he, himself, had supposedly had. He had to know for sure that Mu, as loyal as he might have been, was still sound enough to realize when it was ok to disobey; to confront the one you're loyal to.

And so it begun. Shion tried, he really gave Mu enough clues to figure out what was happening, but the moment the current Aries saint realized it had been Hades the one to give him new life, the moment Shion asked Mu to bring him Athena's head, he lost his son. And he couldn't have been more proud of him because of it.

He wondered then, how many of them would have to fight their loved ones. Since this would be a battle to be fought between fathers and sons, siblings, friends, and lovers.

* * *

Milo couldn't believe his eyes, so he resorted to his other senses, but they too seemed to be deceiving him.

After talking with Mu, he'd decided to do as his friend had suggested and stripped his mind of his suspicions. He'd trust Mu to keep an eye open and wouldn't let his thoughts get in the way of his healing. It was the sensible thing to do, considering what he'd been going through.

But just as he was returning to his temple with this new resolve, he'd felt the change in the air. It was as if the Sanctuary itself was screaming at him. Something was happening.

So he'd done the only thing he could think of; ignored the cosmos he was feeling, suppress the urge to go find his deceased friends, and ran as fast as he could up to Athena's chambers. He was the one closest to her; he should have been the one to have gotten there first. But he wasn't. Just as if it was the most natural thing in the world, there he was, talking to Athena. The Gemini saint-cum-Sea Dragon. Kanon.

He did the sensible thing, of course, and charged at the man without asking any questions. He ignored Saori's startled yelp, Kanon's eyes wide with surprise; he even ignored his better judgment, that told him the blue haired man had been peacefully sitting before the goddess.

And he would have struck too, his Scarlet Needle half the way towards the man's heart, if it hadn't been for Athena's strong cosmo getting in the way, or Saori's stern voice.

"Stop, Milo. Don't attack him, I beg you."

Her voice was kind, her demeanor the image of delicacy and concern; yet Milo knew, he knew it wasn't a request, nor a plead. It was an order; one he would regret to ignore. So he gritted his teeth, throwing daggers at the other man, just because he couldn't stare at the goddess in such a way.

Milo felt his blood boil. So this is how things work? His best friend gets frozen to bits and dies, while this traitor gets invited over for tea?

"Athena, this man..." he growled. "He's a traitor and a murderer. You should not trust him with whatever lies he's fed you! Let me take care of him, please."

Silently he was pleading her to let him unload his frustration on the man. Kanon didn't even blink. He stared at Milo; not in defiance, per se. He was sizing the situation; weighing his chances now that he'd been caught, most likely.

The young woman's voice again interrupted his thoughts.

"He's here to help, Milo. I can see in his heart, he means well."

_'Oh, you can see, can't you?'_ Milo thought sarcastically. Those words alone would have been enough of an excuse for him to turn Kanon into a strainer. He lifted his hand, ready to strike.

"If he's good, as you say, then he shouldn't fear death." He raised his arm, fingers already aiming at the other man's vital points. "Scarlet Needle!" he roared, more enraged that he'd ought to be.

If she wanted him to stop, she'd have to do a lot better than that. He purposely ignored his conscience as he descended upon his passive opponent; ignored the feeling that he was taking his pain and frustration out on an innocent.

* * *

Green eyes opened wide, showing just the tiniest bit of surprise. It was only natural, considering that since he'd last been awake, every piece of the puzzle that had been bugging his brain for the past few weeks seemed to have found its place. Everything was clear now.

Shun smiled and sat up. Everything made sense. There were no more doubts or blanks in his memory. He had to fight real hard not to burst out laughing on the spot, deeming it necessary to keep the other three people around him unaware of his waking.

It wouldn't be hard, he noted. His brother and the other boy were making out like high school students, while the other... his blood brother, gaped at them. Oh, he'd let them know he was awake soon enough, but watching them now was priceless.

It seemed that Poseidon really cared about this one; this boy. It made him giddy to think of the possibilities that enticed. The boy he did not care for. He would not harm him if it wasn't necessary, and experience had taught him that Poseidon had probably manipulated him into his bed.

Ikki was amusing to watch, too. The Phoenix saint always carried himself with such an air of being on top of everything; a man of the world, was he? And yet here he was, doing a very good impression of a gold fish just at the sight of two men kissing.

It was embarrassing, really. They had exposed themselves- all of them- in a way that it would have made it tremendously easy for him to kill them without them even knowing what had hit them. But he didn't want them dead... Not yet, anyway; though death was inevitable. How did the saying go? Death and taxes...

But their carelessness had provided the opportunity to gather his surroundings. He had to reevaluate his situation, now that he understood what it entailed completely. Oh, he'd been such a fool! Peace, compassion; he'd honestly believed it would be possible to deal with his problem in that manner. Now he knew better, now he remembered.

_**TBC**_

**_CANON:__ Shion, DeathMask, Aphrodite, Camus, Shura and Saga rise from the dead and attack the Sanctuary with the apparent intention of cutting Athena's head and taking it back to Hades. They have twelve hours to do so, but they have other things in mind._**

**_Several formerly deceased Silver Saints attack the bronze boys around the globe._**

**_Dohko goes to the Sanctuary to join in the battle. Shiryu follows shortly after._**

**_Radamanthys sends some of Hades's specters to the Sanctuary disobeying explicit orders from Pandora._**

**_I think that's about it. Anything else I've explained. Feel free to ask though, if it's not vital to keep the suspense coming, I'll gladly answer you._**


	9. Ch8 Fallen Angel

_**A/N: Thanatos and Hypnos make an appearance in this chapter. I didn't go with the canon on this one; don't be surprised to find them OOC. They didn't have that big a role anyway and my version of them is very different because the circumstances of my story are very different. Another thing is, their speech, I think, is very old fashioned. Try to be thousands and thousands of years in the same place and keep updated with speech patterns.**_

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

**BALLAD OF A FALLEN ANGEL**

Elysium was beautiful. Young girls laughed under the shadows of the apple trees, while young men ran and wrestled in joyful competitions.

Elysium was peaceful. A nymph was playing the most heavenly of tunes in her harp and the aroma of the most delicate flowers bathed the air as the sweetest of perfumes. It was a dream.

Thanatos stirred from his lying position on the grass, the sun hitting his face. As blessed as he was, as pleasant his stay, there was something troubling him. Something that had troubled them for millennia.

Elysium was fake.

Hypnos, who was leisurely resting beside him, ran a gentle hand through his golden hair, soothing him.

"Soon, brother. Do not despair," the god of sleep cooed in his most tender tone.

"Do you think," he mused, taking his brother's hand in his own, "...that this time we will succeed? Do you think we did the right thing? I can't help but wonder..."

Hypnos shushed him, caressing his cheek.

"Everything will be alright. We didn't have a choice. He has to remember; if we ever want to go back, he needs to remember."

"But,..." Thanatos rolled over to rest his chin on his hands, staring up at his smiling brother with a frown, "Who is to say they will let 'us' back? He was the one... We were just his servants. Which is our merit?"

"We helped, did we not?" Hypnos cheered merrily. "If it had not been for us, he would have been born in Germany, instead of Japan. I think that shall make all the difference!"

"Do you really think so? Do you think they will forgive our crimes?"

He saw Hypnos hesitate; his brother's brow knitted in a pensive frown, barely disguised by his silver bangs. Finally he looked up, his eyes shining with joy and resolve.

"If they deny us, then he will plea our case. He shan't forget us."

As his brother's words sunk in his soul, comforting him, Thanatos smiled and rested back down, calmer now.

"I cannot wait to see the gates again. Have I ever told you I love the gates the most?"

Hypnos laughed deeply and quietly, brushing Thanatos hair from his face.

"You have, my brother; countless times. Do you not miss the gardens better? Not all the flowers of Elysium put together could compete with just one of the bulbs in heaven."

"No." He shook his head, his eyes already staring into nothingness as he let himself get lost in the memories. "I miss the gates more. Tall and beautiful; astounding enough to take one's breath away. They hold so much promise. All the cherubs' voices reverberating against them, making them vibrate with their chanting. I cannot wait to see them from the inside; to know those powerful bars protect me."

"Fair enough," his brother conceded. "But I should think the gardens are something to be missed. One's appreciation of the beauty of this haven is severely hindered after seeing the luminous petals oozing with eternal life that can be found there. I must confess that, whenever I let myself brood about our situation, I find these poor imitations offending." He fingered a little chamomile between his fingers before smiling. "They are beautiful in their deception, though."

"Ah, well." Thanatos stretched lazily, as a cat would, until the knot between his shoulder blades eased. "It shall all be over soon enough. Zeus' offspring will fall, as it is meant to happen, and everything will be as it should again. We can spend this period of waiting in remembrance, but it should not be a bitter one."

Hypnos smiled again, brightly, and nodded. All they had to do was wait for fate to deal them a good hand, and he hoped this was the time for their victory.

* * *

Julian knew he was being watched. There was a part of him which could never fully disconnect from his surroundings; it would be too dangerous to do so. At the moment, he couldn't have cared less. Later he would explain to his brother's brother. Later he would find Shun and beg him to accompany him to the sanctuary. Right then, he'd kiss Sorrento goodbye, just in case. Ikki wasn't making any move to attack them, anyway. Julian didn't think he would. Ikki was honorable, unlike himself. Ikki...

It was funny but he found himself curious about that mere human. Was he a better brother to Shun than what he'd been? He would have made one lousy brother if he hadn't managed. Shun loved him a lot, that much he knew.

The kiss eventually broke, as it was bound to happen, but neither Julian nor Sorrento acknowledged Ikki immediately. They rested their foreheads together, gazing into each other's eyes. Very corny and romantic maybe, but they were about to face something horrible enough to justify it.

It never crossed Julian's mind to keep an eye open for Shun. He figured he was way too out of control, his cosmo would be all over the place when he woke up; just as it'd been before. When he heard Ikki's gasp of surprise, he realized his mistake.

"Shun-chan?" Ikki's voice came out as a whisper, yet Julian could still detect certain amount of tenderness in his tone.

Both he and Sorrento turned to face the Phoenix saint and, consequently, Shun. Just one glance at the green haired boy and Julian feared he'd missed his chance to talk him out of another war. Shun was... well, he wasn't just Shun anymore. His brother was fully awake and it took him a mere glance at his eyes and demeanor to see that.

Ikki, of course, rushed to his side, his features showing concern and apprehension. For his part, Shun just smiled sweetly at him, after giving Julian a look so dark that made his heart skip a beat.

"Nii-san," Shun started, pointing at the two of them like a little kid would. "Have you met my onii-chan?"

The Phoenix saint blinked in confusion, while Sorrento took Julian's right hand in both of his, surely sensing the danger they were in. Remembering their previous conversation, the god of the seas refrained from using his little brother's current name. At that moment, Shun was even more unpredictable and voluble that before, and Julian knew that all too well.

"Brother, you're awake." He bowed his head slightly, never meeting the other's eyes, hoping that a show of humbleness would go well with him.

He did caught a glimpse of Ikki's utterly lost expression and he felt sorry for him. Even if one of them managed to explain what was happening to him, it would still be a hard pill to swallow.

Shun chuckled.

"Yes, I'm awake. What are you going to do about it?"

"Shun, what's going on?" Ikki's tone intended to sound demanding, Julian could tell, but he'd failed miserably, betraying his absolute state of confusion.

Julian almost gasps, and his surprise was a good one, when he saw Shun's eyes softening at his blood brother. The total void of emotion that those huge green orbs had shown a moment before was replaced- if only for an instant- with the deepest of affections. Maybe there was still hope.

"Nii-san," Shun whispered. His eyes filled with tears and in a matter of a second Ikki had his brother wrapped in a protective embrace; one that Shun didn't fight. "Nii-san, I..."

"Shhh. It's ok, everything's fine. Just don't look so sad, Shun-chan."

Julian watched the scene, not knowing what to make of it. Especially since he could see the beginnings of a smile- one of Hades' smiles- forming on Shun's face.

Sorrento stood beside him, as quiet as he was, surely out of fright. Shun's cosmo might have been hard to perceive, but it wasn't because it was weak. On the contrary, it was so strong that, given the nature of Hades' powers, **[1]** it became undetectable to anyone not paying attention. He remembered very well Athena using Hades' ability in battle. He remembered plenty of times when all of them had used Hades, period.

But they were paying attention now, and there wasn't a chance of missing that black hole of energy. He thought it was time to make his move. Cautiously as to not threaten either of them- he knew he stood there as an enemy- he approached them both, but it was Ikki the one he addressed.

"Ikki, do you remember me?" The boy in question scowled and nodded; Julian would have sworn he saw Ikki's embrace tightening when he got closer. He sighed. "Good. I didn't come here to fight. I came here to help."

"Help?" Was all Ikki said. Julian nodded.

"I know what you think of me and you have every right to. But you know something's wrong, don't you? With Shun?"

"Is any of this your fault? Did you hurt him, in 'any' way?" Ikki barked. Julian wasn't put out by the threat in the other boy's eyes; he deserved as much. He also believed Ikki- and his brother- deserved a truthful answer.

"Yes, I did hurt him. And this is, in part, my fault." Ikki seemed taken aback by his words, so Julian kept on talking, hoping to show just how sorry he was. "And I'm sure you would like to kill me right now because of it. You're surely a much better brother to him than I ever was. But I came here to make amends."

It was unsettling the way Shun wouldn't say anything. He was listening, alright; his eyes bored into his own, making him feel exposed, that vicious smile ever present. But Ikki couldn't see his brother's face. Ikki's own expression was more and more confused with each passing second; Julian regretted referring to Shun as his brother for a second time in the Phoenix saint's presence, knowing it could have only added to the boy's puzzlement.

"What the hell are you talking about? What's going on here?" Ikki all but yelled.

"I don't have time to explain..." he smiled sheepishly, glancing at Sorrento, who blushed ever so slightly. "I've wasted too much time as it is. All I can say is, I have Shun's best interest in mind and I sure as hell could use you on our side, because unless we get him to the Sanctuary- to Athena- as fast as we can, it's going to get ugly."

This time Shun did react. He pulled away from his brother just enough so he could gaze up at him and, with the sweetest of smiles- Julian thought he saw him batting his eyelashes- he spoke.

"Nii-san, will you kill him for me?"

* * *

Rhadamantys swallowed hard, thinking of all the arguments he could use to defend his case. His steps resonated through the gothic surroundings as he made his way to Pandora's chambers.

He was a general; he'd led his men in battle for thousands of years. This girl was certainly smart, and she knew Lord Hades' wishes very well; but Rhadamantys knew that his master- as sacred as he was to him- was a few sandwiches short of a picnic and Pandora was not experienced in the art of war. There had to be a way to make her understand her mistake in letting Athena's saints lead the battle.

It wasn't just the prospect of them turning out to be loyal to her still, though that was a strong possibility. It didn't go well with him to have his men sitting idle while Athena's previous warriors did all the work. It just wasn't honorable.

How could they trust someone to be loyal to them, if to begin with they were betraying their previous master? Was that the kind of people they wanted fighting their cause?

In any case, he'd already sent a few specters to make sure everything went well. If he managed to convince her- or Lord Hades- that he was right, no one would notice his disobedience. If he couldn't convince them though... He let a hand rest at his neck as a reflex and stopped in front of her door.

The sweet sound of her harp reached his ears way before he opened it. It was a sort of reminder that Pandora was, in spite everything, a compassionate soul. If anyone was to understand him, it would be her. And if not, he still was favored in Hades' eyes. If he could only talk to him for a minute or so, he'd see his way.

Stepping into the beautiful medieval room, he stared for a moment at the figure of the woman peacefully playing some heavenly tune. How could it be that humanity had seen them as the bad guys? Now, maybe, he could understand it; Hades was not what he used to. His family had succeeded in breaking his spirit. But the reason he was still loyal to him, even after such a drastic change, was that the general had seen the beauty of his master's soul. It had been pure and bright enough for any angel to give up heaven for him.

It didn't matter anymore what would happen to the world after Hades won- because he 'would' win this time. The world had it coming and so did Athena. He would walk beside his Lord every step of the way.

* * *

The aftermath of his Starlight Extinction sparkled in the air like a thousand little fireflies. Seiya, stubborn as only he could be, wouldn't have taken the hint, anyway. The only way to get that child to where he was supposed to go had been by force. It helped to know that he'd also probably saved the kid's life or, at least, avoided him a fight that would wear him out for the important one.

Of course he knew Shion wouldn't believe he'd killed the Pegasus Saint. Shion knew him and, up until a moment before, he'd known Shion. His own master. He was fighting- if only half heartedly- against the man who'd raised him! That Death Mask and Aphrodite were fighting with him was as conclusive an evidence of his treason as his treason was baffling. Why?

The man before him, even as concealed by that unholy cloak as he was, could not hide the kindness of his stare. Mu could have sworn he'd seen grief in those eyes he'd known so well. What could have happened down in the underworld to make his peaceful, loyal master a traitor?

It would mean that everything he'd taught him was a lie. Could it be? No, there had to be a reason. He was surely missing something. Shion was not, never had been, a traitor. Sadly, he didn't have time to ask questions. No matter what, he had to stop Death Mask and Aphrodite from crossing the threshold of his temple.

"Do you know what will happen to you for your disobedience?" Shion's tone was as sad as Mu felt.

Yes, he knew. He didn't understand how could it be that he was disobeying his master's orders while he was fulfilling his duty as a gold saint. It just didn't make sense; but he was aware of the consequences.

"I'll pay for my defiance with my life, but I won't let you pass."

He couldn't hate Shion; he'd never hate him. So he did what he could, and took it out on the other two. Shion could have killed him; he was, after all, his master; just snapping his fingers and Mu would be dead. It would happen, he knew, soon enough. In the meantime, he'd deal with the Cancer and Pisces saints. Those two he'd never forgive.

* * *

Ikki was flabbergasted. The innocence of his brother's tone a such a request was uncanny. He glanced at the one he was supposed to kill, the sadness in those eyes, plus Shun's innocently macabre smile, told him who really needed his protection; who was really at danger. And it wasn't Shun.

Shun wasn't himself; he'd never ask that of anyone. And yet, what was he supposed to do? Not only his heart and loyalty belonged to his brother; now his cloth and cosmo too. He didn't know why, but his cloth was hungry for the blood of the one in front of him. Julian hadn't done anything to justify it and Ikki really didn't have anything against him, except... What was that all about? Calling Shun his brother? And Shun had done it too. What did it mean? For a moment he even entertained the idea of their parents having another child and never telling them about it.

But deep inside he knew what it was all about. Why would someone who wasn't related to them in the slightest, but had the soul of a god who had plenty of siblings of his own, claim that Shun was his brother? The answer was quite simple, in a complicated way. It would explain a few things as well.

Could he follow his brother's orders? Oh, he might have been confused; there was a lot he didn't know yet, but he could recognize an order when he heard one. And for some reason he was aware that Shun hadn't just given new life to his cloth, he'd turned it into something new; something that only responded to him.

But at the same time, he knew Shun didn't need him to kill Julian. Something told him that if his brother really wanted him dead, there was nothing anyone could have done to stop him. He gazed down to Shun's eyes, searching within him for some hint of what had prompted such an out of character petition.

"You don't want me to do that," he said simply, though his brother's expression said otherwise.

Shun pouted ever so slightly.

"So, you won't?" he half whined. If saying no to Shun had been hard in the past, now it was almost impossible. What had he done to him, that even when he could recognize something was horribly wrong with him, Shun still had so much control?

"Shun..."

Sorrento stepped in between Julian and him, obviously intending to fight him if he so much as touched one of Julian's hairs.

"Andromeda," the former marine said sternly "We told you we didn't come here to hurt you. Don't turn this into something it isn't."

He could understand it too; thanks to the little show those two had given him earlier, he knew- or at least had an idea- of what they meant to each other.

Shun didn't answer, he just widened his smile. In his mind, Ikki could feel the urge to kill Julian growing stronger. It was disturbing; the whole ordeal was disturbing. He'd chopped his right arm for some answers, and yet he couldn't find it in him to ask the right questions. He didn't know, he honestly didn't know what he would have done, if an interruption hadn't freed him from the dilemma.

It was at that moment that there was a not too polite knock at the door, causing everyone's attention to divert from the tense situation.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are!" A voice sang behind it, just before someone knocked it down completely.

Three shadows appeared at the threshold, outlined by the light outside. It was at that moment that Ikki realized just how dark the hall had been. But he noted that, even if he had been able to see them clearly, he wouldn't have seen his faces; they were wearing some sort of cloak that covered completely.

"Which one of you ladies is Andromeda?" another said.

Ikki thought they had given him enough of an excuse to release his blood thirst with them, so he let go of Shun and stepped forward, grinning in spite of himself. He noted with some surprise that both Julian and Sorrento had also stepped in to protect Shun from the mysterious visitors.

The three took off their cloaks and assumed a battle stance, all smirking at them as if they didn't stand a chance. But Ikki recognized them immediately.

"Deios, Algheti, Sirius;" Ikki smirked. "Shouldn't you guys be dead?"

Three silver saints that should have been dead but that even as living dead wouldn't present a threat to any of them. They were way past the days when they feared a silver saint as if they were the strongest saints out there. They'd fought gods and come out as winners. As for Julian and Sorrento... well, one was a god and the other had needed Shun's and Athena's strengths combined to be defeated.

"Hades-sama has given us new life!" Sirius said, delighted.

Ikki blinked. Hades?

"Yes!" Deios' huge form shook with laughter. "And all we have to do is kill some wussy bronze saint!"

"But don't worry," Algheti provided petulantly. "We can kill you three as well if you want."

Evidently the time they'd spent dead had left them seriously misinformed, as the three of them- Julian, Sorrento and Ikki himself- smirked at those unwise words. But as they were about to attack, Shun stepped in front of them all, calmly and walking with such a confidence that made Ikki wonder; he'd looked so innocent a moment before.

"You could say I am Andromeda," he said seriously, not a hint of the previous mocking sweetness. Then his face darkened considerably and his next words came with a weight of authority that left Ikki dumbfounded. "And now you'll kneel down before me for your disrespect!"

The three silver saints stared at each other in confusion. They must have seen something that Ikki missed though, because next thing they were all wincing and doing as Shun had said. Deios was the one to speak next.

"I'm sorry, my lord, we were just doing as we were told."

And then everything clicked. Ikki stared in horror at his little brother as everything came together in his mind.

"You... you are..." he breathed. Shun just regarded him with a sideway glance.

"Yes, Nii-san. I am."

_**TBC**_

_**[1]** **In Greek mythology, Hades had the power to make himself invisible. It was thanks to a helmet he had, but I'll plead poetic licence here and have him have these powers all the time. Athena did use the helmet in one battle against Ares, so he wouldn't see her.**_


	10. Ch9 Roses&Thorns

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER NINE  
**

**ROSES AND THORNS**

The Libra saint watched intently, from his place at the top of the Sanctuary clock, how a man he'd once known as a dear friend and strong ally fought against his own pupil. He would light the clock's flames soon enough, and then the battle would officially start. At the moment though, he would just observe.

Even concealed, as he was, by that unholy cloak, Dohko could see Shion had somehow regained his youth and strength. He was almost excited about seeing him again, alive and full of energy, even if it was just an illusion.

Curious things, illusions. They were more than just deceit to the eye. They were wishes, nightmares or, in his case, hope. A hope of keeping his world safe from people capable of selling their own friends out for their own personal gain. People like Shion.

Dohko sighed. He really wanted to believe- had the suspicion- that there was more to the whole thing than mere betrayal; that Shion wouldn't sink so low. He had twelve hours to find out, he thought, as the blue flames began their countdown.

* * *

The sound of the plane engine was working as a bizarre lullaby and Shun's eyelids started to feel heavy. It wasn't so much that he was truly tired; the constant humming, barely audible yet completely unavoidable, just lured him into a trance-like state. It was hypnotic.

To his right sat Ikki, with an expression of such grief and resignation that, for a split second, the youngest part of him felt bad for him. All in all, he was merely amused by his blood brother's devotion, that would make him go to such lengths in spite of what his conscience was telling him was right, just to support him. He appreciated it, but he still thought it was curious. Humans were so curious.

On the row behind him, the three silver saints sat in absolute silence. Silence brought on by fear, Shun could tell as much. They must have been too stupid or misinformed- or both- to recognize him, but they apparently now knew very well who he was and what he was capable of. He wasn't sure if it had been his idea to recruit former Athena's saints to do the specters' job. He could think of a reason or two why he could have, though. First of, that way no specters would get hurt unless it was absolutely necessary. As someone who'd lived betrayal first hand so often, he knew how to appreciate loyalty, even if he didn't quite believe in it. The specters had given it all up for him. For the time being, he owed them.

Another reason would have simply been that it was down right ironic. Maybe if the little bitch realized what kind of scum fought for her cause, she'd see she couldn't surround herself with shit and come up smelling like roses; no matter how expensive her perfume was.

It still seemed like a bad strategy- one that Radamanthys would surely not have approved off- and it put his whole mission in danger. It didn't matter though, if it had been his idea or someone else's mistake. Now only time would tell.

But the fact that he would have given the order to kill the bronze saints he couldn't quite understand. Split in two as he had been, it was possible that the half of him who'd represented his memories hadn't been aware of the bronze saints being the only people in the stinking bunch that was Athena's army that were worth something (with the exception of a gold saint or two, maybe.)

Somehow, as confusing as his immediate past was at the moment, he didn't think that had been the reason for the order. It was too late now to fix it, and that was perhaps a plus. Maybe it would be better if the bronze saints died before the big battle. Shun- Hades- loved them deeply. Not all his memories of his past could change what he felt for his friends, and that endangered his plans. There was no point in wishing they would see things his way; support him as Ikki had. Athena had done a fine job in washing their brains. Would he have to face them? He knew first hand the courage those children- they were children, weren't they?- had in their hearts and minds; the fire in their souls. Could he kill Seiya, if it came to that again?

Yes, there had been wisdom in his ordering to kill them and, though he really doubted those weak excuses for warriors that were the silver saints would ever succeed, he found himself wishing they would; just so that he wouldn't have to kill them himself if they got in his way.

Shaking those thoughts away, he focused his attention on the person in front of him, to sort of remember 'why' he was doing this. He had to admit Julian had been very kind in offering his private jet to make the journey. It was a luxurious little thing and, lets not forget, it allowed him to watch his brother's face all the way to Germany. The smile he was giving him might have been a bit much, but the uncomfortable expression on Julian's face because of it was priceless, so he kept it.

By the way he was holding Sorrento's hand, by the furtive glances they shared every once and again, Shun could swear it was more than mere lust on Poseidon's part. He loved the boy passionately, and he was loved in return. The thought that his brother was capable of such a feeling was rather disconcerting; though the realization brought as much anger in him as it did confusion. His smile turned even more vicious. The son of a bitch had no right being in love. He had no right having the person he loved by his side.

The memory of auburn locks shining under Elysium's sun invaded his brain. They, his own family, had taken his life, his dignity, but he had forgiven them. They had put the 'mistake' away, denied him a heaven that was rightfully his, and he'd forgiven them. But then the bastards had given him love. He'd been happy as he'd never been before; and just when he'd thought it would always be that way, they had taken it away, letting him know of their real intentions. They had given him that so they could take it away.

Watching Sorrento's face, so clueless and loving, Hades came to a decision. He'd thought of leaving the 'innocent' boy alone. Now he could also remember the way Saori's eyes sparkled whenever Seiya was around. No; he wasn't one to hurt innocents. Yes, he loved Seiya, and respected Sorrento as a worthy adversary. But both of them would have to pay the price of their acquaintance; they would be casualties of war, in a way; as sad as it was. But there was no other way. Poetic justice; but justice nonetheless. They would know the heartache they'd made him feel, first hand. He would never forget those auburn locks; he'd never forgive them now.

* * *

His rage was subsiding and his reason returning. The bloody figure of the man in front of him wouldn't let him forget his outburst, though; or the fact that he needed to fix his mess.

Not once Kanon had lost his dignity, his determination. It was now obvious that- though Milo seriously doubted someone could change as much as he claimed to have done- the man meant what he'd said. At least this once, his intentions were honorable. It was no wonder either, that Kanon was fighting on their side, if what he- Milo- had felt was as dangerous as he'd felt it to be.

The point was, the former Gemini Saint was now bleeding to death. Though Milo didn't quite regret his actions- they may have been brought on by all the wrong reasons, but the result was still useful; Kanon was trustworthy- it was time to deliver one last strike. Anthares would judge where his grieving mind could not.

Time stopped. Yes, this was Kanon, a traitor, a megalomaniac. But even Kanon's life would weigh on his soul if he should die as a result of his inability to keep his hot blooded nature under control. And while his cosmo flared, the Scorpio saint felt, for an instant that felt like decades, how his spirit connected with the universe. In that universe, whatever was happening, whatever was to come, didn't matter. Somewhere in that universe, were his friends; Camus was there, connected as he was, and Milo could feel it. The feeling soon turned into a vision he couldn't understand. Nothing like that had ever happened to him before, but he was powerless to stop it.

He could also detect a bittersweet energy overpowering it all. The universe itself didn't feel at all endless; in fact, it felt imprisoned. But whatever walls were holding it- and while doing so, turning that bittersweet energy so concentrated it made it hard to breathe- seemed to be fighting to break. It was as if the walls themselves wanted to set the universe free. Something was stopping it, though. A bunch of creatures so awful and vile it made his blood run cold and his stomach lurch. They laughed and mocked and kept whatever was out there from getting in. They didn't seem to notice the energy growing in that small space that was the universe, and Milo could tell it would be their undoing.

It was such a powerful, mind numbing experience, that Milo forgot all about Athena, his pain, Kanon; it all seemed small in comparison. But as it had come, the sensation- the vision- left him and his mind, not being ready to deal with what he'd just seen, decided to pretend it hadn't happened. Everything was back to normal, though Milo felt he was not the same anymore, if only unconsciously. Something had been revealed to him, for whatever reason.

Kanon was in front of him again, awaiting. Raising his finger, and for some reason avoiding to look at Athena's impassive self, he buried his Scarlet Needle deep in the other man's chest. It was over and done with.

Kanon lay on the ground, immobile for a few minutes, causing the Scorpio saint to hold his breath in dread and expectation. Finally, the messy, blood stained mass of blue hair rose, showing the man's battered face porting a self-satisfied smile. Milo held his stare; that friendly defiance was all that was keeping his mind from the unwanted epiphany he'd just had.

But Athena had to step in, place herself between them, breaking the moment and making Milo painfully aware of why he'd avoided to look at her in the first place.

Her smile was sweet and forgiving; honest, he'd have to admit. But in that moment, when he'd had that disturbing revelation, a fold had been lifted from his eyes, or so it seemed. Long gone was the cute purple haired girl with a cocky attitude. Long gone the warm golden cosmo. It wasn't warm, it burned; like a thousand hearths; it wasn't golden, it was fire. And Athena was no longer a girl, but one of those disgusting nymphs holding the universe captive.

Milo fell to his knees, truly afraid for the first time in his life, and stared at the creature before him with eyes wide as saucers.

"Athena..." he whispered, in utter disbelief. What spell was this? Who dared play with his mind, with the sacred image of the goddess, in such a shameless way? It had to be a trick, an illusion. It had to!

Saori posed her hands on his shoulders, staring down at him with pity and concern. Her hands burned his skin, making him feel blisters forming. And the smell... he wanted to throw up. Fire and brimstone, it's what she was.

"Milo," she said, and at least her voice he recognized. He hoped. In spite of his resentment, his grief, for a moment he wished this was the work of their enemy. He wanted to trust her, to believe in her. To believe that she, as the goddess she was supposed to be, had felt the interference in his mind and come to his rescue. Her next words though, crushed those hopes. "Milo; my faithful Milo. There's no need to kneel down; to ask for forgiveness. I knew you wouldn't kill him, just as I know he means no harm. I can read it in your hearts, remember?"

Milo lowered his eyes, not baring the sight of her. Yes, somehow she knew more than your average human did; more than any of them did. But she could not- never had been able to- read their hearts. He would be dead by now if she'd could.

When he stood, the illusion- or was it reality?- was gone. Saori was herself again. But Milo had seen- learned- more than enough. He mumbled something about needing to guard his temple and rushed out of there as fast as his feet allowed. What it all meant, he didn't know. But he sure as hell would find out.

* * *

The wind had ceased; there still remained some giant blocks of ice, spurting from the ground, consequence and testimony of their mock of a fight. Everyone in town had witnessed it and, since with the fight had died the storm, were now leaving their shelters. Some to see what had happened, some to help out. Hyoga could spot Jake's face in between the small crowd, looking at him with innocent concern.

The Cygnus saint was as livid as he was thrilled. Both the row and his mixed emotions were making his head start to spin. What the hell had just happened? Was this to have been another one of the Crystal saints' lessons? Those two sure could use some help regarding didactic methods!

He stared, a scold firm on his face, down at his beaten up master. He did feel happy to see him again; immensely happy. But, if it hadn't been something as close as to what had almost happened, he'd said he wanted to re-kill the idiot. What the fuck was that he'd supposedly learned?

Trying to control his anger- there would be plenty of time to externalize it later- he stretched his hand in order to help his master up. He had to admit, seeing how much damage he'd done to the one who'd taught him everything- and with just one attack, too- boosted his pride a little bit. But only because Crystal was still alive, and that had been a close call.

The older man was smiling, even if a wince did show on his face now and then. He took Hyoga's hand in his and stood up shakily, at the same time snorting.

"You've grown a little more than what I had expected," he said sheepishly, "I assure you, ending up falling flat on my behind with your first blow was not in my plans."

The blond didn't answer, biting his tongue to stop himself from biting his master's head off. He was taking it so lightly! As if he hadn't just caused Hyoga to almost kill him again for the fun of it! It was funny that he, of all people, needed to cool off; nothing had ever been more true, though.

"So?" Crystal spoke again, as they both started walking- limping, in the older man's case- toward Jakob's cabin.

"So, what?" Hyoga barked, not turning to look at him.

"So," he insisted, "Who was it?" Crystal sounded almost exited. Hyoga rolled his eyes.

"Who was who?" Needless to say, his attempts to get his annoyance at his master under control were failing, miserably; not that Crystal was being of much help, though.

"My, aren't we snippy today," the older man joked. One glance from Hyoga and he was raising his hands apologetically. "I mean the one you thought about, of course, when I asked you if there wasn't anyone worth fighting for, remember?" The crystal saint's knowing look, plus his teasing tone, would have been enough to earn him yet another 'Diamond dust' directed at his face. Hyoga was too busy looking down in embarrassment, though.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled. Crystal nodded, smirking as he did, but he didn't push the subject.

Hyoga did know what he'd meant. His anger may have diverted his attention from it, but he knew it was Shun's face he'd seen. Of course it could simply mean that he valued the sacrifice his friend had made to save him, hence feeling he owed his life to him. The concept that he could care about one of the bronze saints more than he did the rest was puzzling and, in some way, disturbing.

So, he cared for Shun more than Seiya; it didn't mean he cared little about the Pegasus saint. After all, though they had all saved each other's lives in more than one occasion, no one- not even himself- had done something as selfless or noble as what Shun had done that day between the Libra temple's walls. Then, if it was just that, why was it that every time he remembered that event, it wasn't the sacrifice he remembered, but the feeling of Shun's body resting next to his.

Hyoga wouldn't say a word to Crystal about it- he was thankful for his physiological inability to blush- but the image of Shun getting hurt because of his stupid self pity drove him out of his mind. Hyoga had no idea of what it meant, but it sure was scary. He could not, under any circumstances, lose Shun as well.

He lifted his eyes and found Crystal staring at him; not in mirth this time. His eyes were filled with paternal affection and a hint of sadness.

"I'm glad you came to your senses in the end. I don't care who was it that made you see how silly you were being."

Hyoga did smile faintly at this, but changed the subject.

"Sanctuary in trouble again, huh? When do we leave?"

His master's eyes darkened considerably for a moment.

"You need to leave at once. All of you have only twelve hours to stop Hades' minions from killing Athena." His tone was grave. Hyoga nodded.

"So, it's Hades this time? Why am I not surprised that we have twelve hours? Wait..." He stopped walking, glaring at his master. "What do you mean I have to go? Aren't you coming as well?"

The older man shook his head no, surprising Hyoga.

"I think I'm going to stay here, catch up with old friends, tell stories of hell. You know how it goes." The crystal saint's tone was light, his expression warm, yet Hyoga saw underneath it. He got the message. Somehow, he realized his master didn't have a place in that fight, as well as that much time left.

A normal person would have hugged their father tight if they'd realized there was a chance they wouldn't see them again. But hey, they were crystal saints. His look said it all and his master understood, responding in kind. It was all the affection they needed to show. After the silent farewell, Hyoga took off, heading toward the Sanctuary, toward a life he hated and yet another senseless war, as fast as he could and without any regrets in his heart.

* * *

Everyone had felt the moment the attack at the Sanctuary had begun. Now the clock had been lit, which let them all know they had to prepare themselves. Some had more time to do so than others, though. Even if the new sacred war was only a temple away from him, Aldebaran decided to take a moment to enjoy the little peace he had left.

Mu was fighting at that moment; that on itself meant this was no ordinary battle. Few men had had the chance to see the Aries saint fight. Aldebaran had, and he felt a little bad for the idiot who'd brought that upon himself. It worried him, though. He may have been a pacifist, but Mu was one of the strongest amongst them. The only reason he could think of for the lilac haired man to fight, was that the opponent was truly dangerous.

He sighed, fingering a little forget-me-not, making it twirl and remembering how, just a few days ago, a little girl in Rodorio had given it to him as a gift. He liked peace as much as Mu did. He liked it so much that he was willing to give his own peace up so that girls like that one could have theirs. Sadly, that was the way of the world. Some had to die for others to live, some had to suffer for other's happiness. At least he did the sacrifice willingly.

The Taurus saint never saw it coming, so immerse he was in his thoughts; so sure he'd been that the enemy would play by the rules, as all the others before. As the stinking odor, that in a moment's notice had invaded the entire temple, started to choke him, Aldebaran realized he'd been too naive.

"Taurus, the bull. What an honor!" a shrieky voice mocked, hidden behind the fetid vapor. Aldebaran bolted from his seat, the flower falling from his finger.

"Who dares taint this holy ground!" he yelled. In truth, he was shocked- scared even. He hadn't felt anyone's presence; he still couldn't. He knew first hand that could mean one of two things. Either this idiot was too weak, or two strong. He hoped for the first, prepared for the second and assumed his battle stance.

"I'm Niobe. One out of 108 specters under Lord Hades' command and you, my friend, are dead."

Hades, he thought; that couldn't mean anything good. But there were more tangible and immediate issues to think about at the moment. How had that man got there so fast, anyway? Was Mu dead? No; he could still feel his friend's cosmo. This guy was just a sneaky bastard who stood no chance against him. His powerful horn would take care of his disrespect. Aldebaran let his attack loose. Niobe was history.

It didn't take him long to notice his mistake. His body had frozen as soon as his attack was out, still in battle stance. Whatever it was he'd breathed, was now consuming him from the inside out. The technique of this Niobe hadn't been as weak as he'd thought. In fact, the sneaky bastard might have been dead- or just minutes away from being dead- but he'd managed to take a gold saint with him.

Aldebaran knew he was as good as dead.

It had all happened in the blink of an eye. Whatever force they were facing this time, wasn't like anything they'd encountered before. He'd heard stories about the Lord of the Underworld. He just never had thought he'd find they were true in such a way. He feared; for Mu, for his friends, for that little girl in Rodorio. Gathering the last of his strength, Aldebaran left a warning, his last memories, sheltered between the petals of the forget-me-not. Someone would find it; someone would warn the others. This enemy played dirty.

The faintest of pains cursed through his body, now nothing more than an empty carcass. At least he'd taken Niobe down. At least his death wouldn't be completely in vain. With one last wish of luck for all his friends, Taurus Aldebaran was no more.

_**TBC**_


	11. Ch10 Dry Waters

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER TEN**

**DRY WATERS  
**

In spite of everything he'd grown up to believe in, of everything he was supposed to know as truth, it was still a bit of a surprise to find that his last breath hadn't been the end of his existence. It was a bit of a shock, albeit a pleasant one. Aldebaran was dead, but he still was.

One thing he'd never expected, though, was Cancer being right about what the other side looked like. He'd believed Death Mask to be exaggerating for his own amusement at seeing his enemies tremble in fear, telling stories about hell as if it were all there was- he was a little sadistic, after all. But now the Taurus saint got to see the Underworld with his own two eyes, and it was every bit as despairing and disgusting as his former comrade had depicted.

There wasn't any light except for the one coming from the endless parade of human souls walking to their damnation. Their faces looked stripped from all hope or will. From the depths of the abyss to which all souls fell without exception, one could hear a horrifying song composed of the whimpers and cries of torture. Aldebaran shuddered.

Was he supposed to meet their fate? Was he meant to walk without complain and fall into the throat of that dreadful black hole? That made no sense at all! He'd fought for the goddess' cause! He'd saved the world! Or, at least, he'd tried. He had given his best to protect the world from evil and, if there had been times when he'd sat idly while peace was endangered, it had been the goddess' own command. Did he not deserve a better treatment, a better fate, than those ordinary humans?

But, then again, he was no one to judge those souls. He couldn't simply assume he was worth more than them. He couldn't understand, though, what was the point of an afterlife, if it only meant suffering, no matter what you did in life. Was there no peace? No solace? Ever?

If this was all death had to offer, then his best chance was to go back, to reincarnate, and go through all the hardships and pains of life all over again, with no hope of ever resting. He would probably be born a saint again, if everything Shaka was always blabbering about held any truth. And the worst part was, that he knew there would be no way for him to remember what expected him at the end of the road. He would hope, when hope was obviously an illusion now.

Aldebaran shook his head. he was letting that hell of a place get to him, and that wasn't of any use. He'd never been one to bow his head to circumstances and he wasn't about to start doing it now. There had to be someone he could beat up for some answers; he might not have been an expert in theology, but there was obviously something wrong with this picture. His heart was telling him so, and he **always** listened to his heart.

To find the explanations he needed, though, there was only one way to go, and that was forward, into the abyss. Taking a deep breath, Aldebaran dipped, head first, into the soul swallowing darkness, hoping he wasn't being too impulsive.

* * *

Shiryu's blood was boiling with excitement. Hiding behind one of the ruins, he'd had the privilege of finally watching his friend Mu in a fight. Mu had always been a peaceful spirit, and Shiryu had tried to find in his friend's philosophy of life, the peace he so needed for himself. And he had indeed found peace in the time he'd spent in Jamir.

Having grown up in a place like Rozan, which was so inviting for meditation and contemplation, he knew it hadn't been the calm aridness of Jamir what had soother his spirits, but the company. Ironically, seeing Mu fight was a confirmation that in his friend lay the key to the balance he was seeking. Mu fought; he fulfilled his duty as a saint like the best of them; but Mu never lost himself in the rage and brutality of the fight.

In any case, watching that fight was a delight. The Aries saint was even more graceful than he'd expected and, whoever he was, his opponent had the same elegance and dexterity. But the opponent had the upper hand. Even from such a distance Shiryu could see Mu was holding back, for some reason. He'd seen the Aries saint get rid of Death Mask and Aphrodite in the blink of an eye. He'd seen him face Saga, Camus and Shura alone, at the same time, without loosing his calm; and not more than two hairs. But whenever this fifth player came into the game, Mu would falter.

Unsure of what he should do next, Shiryu saw how the man under the cloak paralyzed his friend, letting the three former gold saints pass through the Aries temple. Should he go help him? The mysterious foe hovered around Mu in a clearly threatening manner.

The dragon saint feared for his friend's life and was about to go to his aid when his master, the Libra saint, made a rather conspicuous appearance. Had he been there all along? Shiryu hesitated. He knew Dohko didn't want him involved in this new war but, could he really stay out of it?

A few words from the Libra saint that Shiryu couldn't hear, and the mysterious man took off his cloak to reveal a young man that reminded him of Mu in so many ways it was freaky. This man, though, did have his differences- apart from the color of his hair, of course. There was a royal quality about him, an intrinsic authority, that would have made even him kneel down in his presence. The green mane that was his hair, evoked in Shiryu the image of a lion, that because of it's ferocity and power, hadn't lost the delicacy and grace of the feline kin. His face spoke of a kindness and justice that rivaled only to Mu's.

Shiryu did not know who this stranger was; he knew, though, that both his master and Mu were familiar to him; not only because of their stances while they talked, or the lost expression in Mu's eyes when he obviously defied this stranger's orders by going after the three gold saints. This man had been wearing the same kind of cloak that of the three silver saints that had attacked him. It didn't take a genius to recognize that he too, had risen from the dead. What was also easy to recognize, was that this man intended to fight the Libra saint now that Mu had gone. Now, his master was powerful; he had indeed taught Shiryu everything he knew; but he was still an old man, who certainly wouldn't stand a chance against the vigor of the youth that man held. Just by looking at his dark cloth- a travesty of the original, most likely- Shiryu knew he had also been a gold saint, the Aries saint, at some point.

This time Shiryu did not hesitate. He wouldn't let his master, who'd survived war after war, perish in this one; orders or no orders. He began running toward them, and praying. There was no need to worry, was there? Once you've killed a gold saint, the rest are pretty much the same; a piece of cake, right? He swallowed hard and shook his fears away.

* * *

Saga, Camus and Shura rushed all the way up to the Gemini temple. Apparently, Lord Hades hadn't stayed true to his word and had sent some men of his own to keep an eye on them. It had been rather shocking to go from the relief of leaving Mu behind, alive- something assured them Shion would not kill him- to find Aldebaran's still body waiting for them. Somehow, if there was someone Saga hadn't expected to die, that was the Taurus saint.

The presence of the specters complicated things quite a bit, and the prospect of having to kill one or more of his own friends to keep up the pretense had become almost a certainty. But the truth was that they would not hesitate to break every one of the goddess' laws and kill every last one of her saints, if it meant getting to her chambers in time and giving her the cloth that would mean the difference between the end of the world and its survival.

It was while he was thinking of those things, that the three reached the Gemini temple; his temple. Saga stopped at the entrance and frowned, so did the others, but their reasons for doing so were slightly different. This was his territory. Saga had been certain- relieved even- to know that, at least in their own temples, they wouldn't find resistance. He had been wrong, though. There was a powerful cosmo protecting the supposedly empty temple. They could all feel it, neither of them had expected it but, unlike the other two, Saga recognized it.

It was ridiculous, it was impossible; it was inconvenient and even tragic, in a way, but Saga almost smiled. So, Kanon was back? He didn't know what was harder to believe, that his twin had- again- managed to survive, or that he was now fighting for the good guys. Definitively the latter, he decided, taking a step forward; inside.

The place reeked of a labyrinth illusion; a pretty good one, at that, but nothing that could hold him for long. He assumed Kanon hadn't expected him to be amongst the traitors. Otherwise, he knew his brother would never hope to win by playing that game; his game. In any case, Kanon had to be aware of his presence by then. Now it was personal.

Even though Kanon's job was supposed to be preventing anyone from passing, Saga knew he wouldn't waste any time with the others while Saga was still in there. The former Gemini saint stretched out his cosmo, looking for any hint of his long lost twin, knowing he was bound to find him. He was eager to find him, really, and Kanon probably felt the same. Sure enough, before long Saga got a glimpse of his cosmo. He was wearing the Gemini cloth- his Gemini cloth- but he figured, if anyone had to steal his place, Kanon was the one who should do it.

"Go on," he told the others, pointing to an apparent dead end. "That way, straight ahead. I'll take care of this."

"Are you sure? I think we should stick together." Shura stated, hesitant. Camus only nodded, and took the other by the arm, practically dragging him the first few steps, until the Capricorn saint realized he had no choice.

It wasn't a minute after the others had disappeared that his brother had made a quiet appearance before him. It was a projection of Kanon wearing his cloth, Saga noted with mild relief. It would have been a really cruel joke of destiny if he'd had to fight his brother, maybe kill him, when- for once- Kanon was fighting for the right reasons. He considered, for a moment, to let his twin in on their plans, but quickly dismissed it. Even if he'd been able to tell him, he wouldn't have. Knowing Kanon, it wouldn't have surprised him in the slightest to learn that he was actually one of Hades' spies, or something. Still, at least his twin wouldn't die yet; not by his hand, and that was good, for the time being.

"Look what the cat brought in," Kanon said, tauntingly.

Again he couldn't avoid the desire to smile. This time, though, he didn't suppress it; and it wasn't a defiant smile, either; not entirely.

"I don't see Aioria anywhere," he joked back, though they were already sizing each other up, readying themselves to fight.

"Don't you find it funny, that we keep changing sides, but never seem to be fighting for the same one?" Kanon sounded truly amused and Saga could understand him.

"It's not my fault you're always one step behind me."

"Ah, I certainly missed you. We have some catching up to do, isn't that right? I could tell you about how I almost drown in several occasions, and you can tell me how's to be six feet under, and all that." He took a battle stance; Saga did the same. "But I guess we'll have plenty of time in hell."

The former Gemini saint nodded, smiling.

"It's a deal. You go first, though."

And so they began fighting; half-heartedly, but fighting nonetheless.

* * *

From the window of the plane, that was starting to cause a claustrophobic episode on a very high-strung Ikki, all that was visible were a bunch of thick, gray clouds that worked as a sort of omen for what was coming. Nothing had clouded their view of the ocean when they'd flown over it. It had been blue and promising underneath them and, Ikki would have had to admit, it hadn't been just Julian who'd found comfort in looking at it.

Now everyone looked edgy and nervous. Everyone but Shun, of course. Ikki's knowledge of geography was greatly limited, but it didn't take an atlas to know they were about to get to wherever it was they were going to. He knew it was somewhere in Germany but, last time he heard, Germany was quite big.

The silence inside that gnat of a machine spoke volumes about the passengers' state of mind. He could almost hear the rattling of teeth from the silver saints behind him; not that he gave a rat's ass. Julian Solo, for his part, looked absolutely miserable. He'd caught sight of Shun, and the way his little brother had tormented... well, it was about time he admitted it; the way he'd tormented his brother. Did that make Julian a sort of half brother of his? The thing was, Ikki felt bad for the blue haired young man. He wasn't sure if he should, if Julian didn't deserve every scornful smile Shun threw his way. The Phoenix saint just knew Julian looked sorry enough for the coldest of hearts to take pity on him and forgive him. Not Shun, though. Did he still have a heart?

Ikki shook his head, not willing to contemplate what his brother had become. He still didn't understand it fully- probably never would. In that way, it was Sorrento who had his full sympathy. The boy was as lost in that dreadful business as Ikki himself was. Though the source of their love was very different, it was still love that had them both on that plane, heading to God knows what nightmare. Neither of them complained, or even asked much about it. They just accepted. That's where they belonged, besides the ones they loved most; no matter what.

Of all the people in that plane, Shun was the hardest to look at. Sans the eventual malicious smile directed at Julian, Shun's face was stoic and superb; royal. There was an assertiveness in his brother's every pose, every move, that felt completely out of place with Shun's ever present innocence. What was his brother now? Was he even Shun, at all?

Hades; who would have thought? He, the one that had cheated death in so many occasions, was the Lord of the Underworld's big brother. It would have been funny, if it hadn't been so utterly devastating. Was it another of fate's jokes? He was really starting to hate fate.

If there was something about his brother's new... self, that suited him like a glove, was that sort of ancestral sadness that could be found in his dark green eyes at all times. It made sense; as if it had always been there, latent. It was what made Ikki's choice to stay with him all that much easier to bare.

An impulse- maybe a moment of doubt- had him reaching for Shun's hand to hold it between both of his. Yes; it was still warm; as pale as moonlight, but warm. Shun started; he practically jumped on his seat, boring his eyes into their now joined hands in amazement. Ikki had seen how absorbed his little brother had been by his thoughts, but the reaction still took him by surprise. He let go of Shun's hand as if it burned.

"I... I'm sorry..." He came to the frightening realization that he really didn't know how to call him anymore. Would it still be alright to call him 'Shun-chan'? It sounded highly inappropriate for a god. Could he get used to calling him 'my Lord'? Wasn't that what he was now? His Lord? Again, Shun surprised him; this time by re-taking his hand.

"Nii-san?" he whispered. "Are you afraid of me now?"

The sweetness of the tone, the tears in his eyes; no matter what, this was still Shun. He was still his little brother. Ikki felt like hugging him; like crushing that little boy in his arms, so hard he'd have to plea for him to let him breathe again. The question Shun had asked was still out there, though, refraining Ikki from reacting- or overreacting- the way he'd wanted to. He just smiled, maybe a little too happily for what he was about to say.

"Yes, Shun-chan. A little, I guess."

Shun nodded sadly, still focusing on their entwined fingers as if they held the answers to all the mysteries of the universe.

"But... you're still here." Ikki watched one single tear appearing on the corner of his brother's eye. The dam thing just clung there, not falling but showing anyway. Ikki would have caressed it away if it had only fell. "How come you're still here?"

There was that sadness again. _'What happened to you,' _he thought, _'while I wasn't there to take care of you?' _He sighed.

"I'm here for as long as you want me here, Shun. Do you want me to go?"

"No!" Shun cried, practically screamed, throwing himself into Ikki's arms on the verge of hysterics. "Don't go! Everyone leaves! Please don't leave me!"

Ikki, Julian, Sorrento, hell, even the silver saints and probably the pilot, were startled by Shun's sudden outburst. The green haired boy looked so desperate, so lonely, it broke Ikki's heart and he kicked himself for his imprudent words.

"Hey!" he said tenderly, trying his best to keep the fear and apprehension from his voice. He patted the young boy's back comfortingly. "I said I'd stay if you want me to. I'm not going anywhere, OK?"

From the corner of his eye, he saw Julian's broken expression. It was obvious the young man wanted to be holding Shun instead of him. But it was guilt that was stopping him. It wasn't strange for Shun to provoke such strong emotions in anyone; he could turn the most unreadable and impassive of faces into an open book. But the intensity in Julian's eyes was overwhelming. What had happened?

Shun pulled away after a moment, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Ikki's heart fell. The old Shun would have brushed the outburst off with a sheepish smile and an apology. Instead, Shun's- Hades'?- expression was of pure bitterness. He did not say a word about it, didn't even look at him. His eyes immediately focused on the window.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, detachedly, as if nothing had happened.

Ikki looked over his brother's shoulder and saw nothing but dark clouds.

"What? What do you see?" Ikki asked, as baffled as he was curious. He caught a glimpse of Julian lowering his head in grief and Sorrento trying to silently comfort him, even though he couldn't understand what had upset him so much. Shun pointed to the menacing clouds.

"The storm that's coming. It's beautiful." Shun glanced at Julian, smiling viciously after seeing his brother so defeated. "Oni-chan; go tell the pilot to start the descent. I know a place nearby we can land." Julian nodded curtly and got up, but Shun immediately stopped him by grabbing his wrist forcefully. "Oh, I almost forget. Silly me!" he laughed, "Tell him also that he has to take off as soon as we're out of the plane. He doesn't need to wait for you. No one's going anywhere. OK, Oni-chan?"

Julian winced, but did as he was told. As soon as the blue haired boy was out of sight, Shun leaned back on his seat and sighed contently. "We're home."

* * *

Aphrodite blinked in confusion. This certainly wasn't his day. First the whole rising from the dead thing, which could **not** be good for anyone's skin. Then Mu uses his Starlight Extinction to send them to the land of the dead again, which left his stomach doing flip flops. Then, Death Mask used his technique to get them out while they still could; a welcome trip, but sickening nonetheless. Now they had teleported all the way to Germany; all in a span of a few hours. Talk about jet-lag.

He kicked himself- and almost chuckles, to be truthful- when he found himself worrying about how his hair had suffered the multiple transportations. But, hell, they were going to talk to Hades-sama and, for what he'd heard, the guy was a cutie. If anything, he could try to charm him into giving them a second chance. He used to have a way with gods back in the day- Athena knows he got whatever he wanted out of Ares-, and he hoped a few months spent six feet under hadn't cramped his style.

"You're not hitting on Hades-sama." Death Mask's voice shook him off his musings. The Pisces saint gave him a suggestive glance.

"You want him all for yourself, don't you? Now, my friend, you have to learn to share!" He giggled, in spite himself, at the Cancer saint's disgusted groan.

"For Zeus' sake, man! Do you even **have** a penis?"

"Why, of course!" he faked outrage, just to bat his eyelashes to Death Mask a moment later. "I could show it to you, if you want."

"No way!" His partner in crime pretended to be horrified., but still made it evident that he'd realized Aphrodite was teasing and had decided to tease back."Even if I were gay, which I'm not, you'd still be too slutty for my taste. I like my girls pure and innocent, thank you." The man smiled wickedly.

"To corrupt them, I presume?" Cancer snickered. He slapped his friend's arm playfully. "Why, you sleazy bastard, you!" He paused, looking pensive for a moment. "Now that I think about it, I wouldn't sleep with you either. That S&M crap you're into is way to racy for me."

Death Mask laughed wholeheartedly and stopped walking. He pointed ahead, at a haunted looking castle up on a relatively small but rocky hill.

"Here we are," Cancer said, sighing. "I think I changed my mind. Get in his pants, if you can." There was dread written all over his friend's face and Aphrodite could certainly sympathize. "Have you thought about...? You know..."

Believe it or not, Cancer was hesitating. Believe it or not, it was a moral issue what had him stammering. Believe it or not, Aphrodite found himself with the same dilemma. He shrugged.

"I don't think we should rat them out. I kinda like Saga and it's not like there's anything Hades can really do about it. Besides, you know who's gonna win. If we keep quiet and let them work..."

Yes; both of them actually had valuable information that could earn them Hades' favor, and they would willingly keep it to themselves. Being dead must have affected his brains.

"Yeah... I thought you'd say that." Cancer smiled sheepishly.

"Well," Aphrodite said, with a tad of resignation in his voice. "If things don't go well, we can always go back to our previous plan and take over hell, right? I always thought you'd make a great leader." He smiled a little sardonically. Cancer snorted.

"That would be neat." He paused, giving him a thoughtful look. "You know that, if I get a chance to stay and they send your sorry ass back to hell, I won't complain."

Aphrodite smiled brightly.

"I love you too. Now let's go."

As they started climbing with determined footsteps, they both heard a low buzzing at a distance, growing louder with each passing second. Neither of them paid much attention to it; they had way too much going on in their minds to really notice. Little did they know that, that very same buzz had such an important, decisive role in their futures.

_**TBC**_


	12. Ch11 Hills&Pits

**THE 'G' IN GOD **

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

**HILLS AND PITS**

Seiya's eyes opened slowly, as he began to regain consciousness. His heart was still beating. Mu hadn't really killed him. Well, that was good news, right? Definitively. Not that he'd really been afraid of Mu; no, sir; no way. Besides, Athena would never order his death, would she? The girl was crazy about him!

As much as he tried to convince himself that he hadn't almost wet his undies, the rate at which his heart was pumping and the obvious sense of relief spoke for themselves. But he was still alive. That was what mattered. Shakily, he got up to try and identify his current location. Where had Mu sent him? Was he still in Greece, even? He really hoped so; he wasn't feeling like traveling a lot at the moment.

At a distance, he recognized the sanctuary. What was a little funny was that it was actually down hill from where he was. One look around and he immediately knew where he was. Star Hill; the bridge between heaven and earth- and, why not, hell. It was a curious place for the Aries saint to have sent him. Maybe it had been a coincidence; mere chance. If there was someone who could make use of that place to their favor, that wasn't precisely him.

The Pegasus saint sighed. He couldn't believe his luck. Trust whatever maniac that was making a fuss now to choose the exact same week he was supposed to be reunited with his sister. Couldn't they just give him a break? So, yeah; Athena didn't want the Bronze saints there. If he were a coward- or an opportunist- he could play dumb and pretend he hadn't seen another sacred war begin. But he couldn't; some deluded sense of honor- of which he was fairly annoyed by- forced him to stay. What was the point in finding Seika, if the world ended tomorrow, anyway?

Still, from all the way up on Star Hill to the Aries temple; it would take a while to get there, and he suspected he'd have to climb his way down. As if he hadn't had his share of rocky cliffs during his short life. He took a seat, facing the little temple and resting his bones for a moment. A couple of minutes wouldn't make a difference, he decided.

That place really felt like a gateway between worlds, Seiya noted. The air was almost electric and he could swear he could see a thin, silver thread that started at the altar and lost itself between the clouds. Was it Star Hill the place Athena visited to speak with her father? The image of himself, a few years older, going to that place to ask Saori's hand in marriage struck him and he laughed softly.

"Shaina... and probably Miho, would kill me, though," he said to no one. "I better stay a bachelor. And what if Zeus doesn't think me worthy? Would he fry me as well?" If there was one thing he hadn't expected in that place, that was be an answer to his question. He got one, anyway.

"Zeus hasn't been on the other end of that thread for a long time, now," a female voice said, startling Seiya out of his wits.

"What? Who...?" He bolted, turning around to look for the source of that voice. What he saw took his breath away. There was a young woman 'floating' before him. Her long auburn hair floated as well, around her pale form, that seemed to be illuminated by a bright, golden light coming from within her. One look at her outfit- and her beauty- and he asked, "Are you Aphrodite? The goddess, not the saint, because the saint was a dude... in a way, and I don't think you look like a dude," he stammered nervously. _'Real smooth, Seiya,'_ he berated himself. The girl smiled fondly.

"No, I'm not her. Or any goddess, for that matter."

_'Too bad,'_ he thought. If she had been the goddess causing trouble, he'd gone to war with her any day. "Who are you then?" He tried to pull off his best winner smile. She lowered her eyes, an air of nostalgia about her.

"I'm a friend, I'm a foe. I'm a lover scorned. I'm an angel." Seeing as her words had only confused him, she added. "You needn't fear me. Just listen to what I have to say, since I have little time to say it."

"OK," Seiya nodded. Whatever she wanted to say seemed important, and if a glimmering, floating girl has something important to tell you, you listen, right? "Shoot."

"You know that another war has started. I can see that your heart is pure, so I must ask you to help me end it."

"Oh!" he laughed, "No need to ask me to fight, lady. That's what I do!"

She didn't seemed relieved by his words, though. She wouldn't ask him to change sides, would she? Was she a 'bad' girl? That'll be a pity, and she sure didn't look the part.

"Fight?" she said, gravely. "Fighting never ends wars. It just postpones them and opens more wounds that will re-start the blood-shed, making it even more painful than before."

Seiya blinked. So, the ancient Greek chick was a hippie? Her words angered him, for some reason. It might have been that he felt a little self-conscious about what she'd just said. To be judged for something he hadn't had a choice in and had brought him so much pain; call him petty, but he didn't feel like hearing a speech about turning the other cheek anytime soon.

"It's not like we have a choice," he spat. "They always attack first! What, should we just let them kill us?" His tone was way too angry; as soon as he'd finished he realized he'd overreacted, but she didn't seem to have taken offense by it. In fact, she smiled at him.

"I'm not judging you. You didn't start this war and you've been a brave and virtuous warrior. But it has dragged on for much longer than it should have and fighting is not going to end it." Her face filled with sadness. "The one your duty will command you to fight... He loves you a lot. And I love him. All I ask is that, before you try to kill him, you try to show him that he's worthy of peace, of your friendship. He has to listen. He needs to remember."

The Pegasus saint heard every word that came out of her mouth, but it took him a few moments for all of it to sink in. Had the woman just said the new enemy was someone he knew? She'd said he cared about him, that he was his friend. He sure hadn't expected that and, though he dreaded the answer, the woman seemed about to leave and he really needed to know.

"Who?" he barely whispered. "Who is it?"

She began fading away.

"A friend, a foe, a scorned lover, an angel." And with those words, that reverberated all through the temple, the hill, his mind and body, she disappeared.

* * *

It was over. Kanon didn't know why, really, but he fell to his knees after Saga defeated his illusion, feeling a nagging urge to cry. He wouldn't; there was no reason to; he didn't **cry**. His pride hadn't been badly hurt; Saga had won, he always did, but Kanon had put up a good fight. If his pride wasn't wounded, why would he feel like crying?

Surely not because of Saga; definitively not because of him. The fact that he'd seen his twin brother fight with so much determination against what he **knew **Saga cherished as true and just, without being possessed by some evil monger; it did **not** affect him, not in the slightest. Neither did the fact that he'd failed to hold him down, hurt him enough so that he wouldn't face a certain death in anyone else's hands.

Kanon was the bad one, the black sheep. He didn't care about things like family and blood ties. Never had. And apparently, for a bad guy, he was pretty lousy liar when it came to lie to himself. A single tear rolled down his cheek. It was over. There would be no reconciliation, no forgiveness, and it was likely he wouldn't get another chance.

Taking a deep breath, he got to his feet. Athena was there, concerned for his well-being, and it made him curious.

"I'm sorry," she said, placing a hand to his shoulder with a grave expression. He only nodded.

Who was this woman, that at one point had held Saga's loyalty? He'd killed himself for her, hadn't he? Kanon was curious about the kind of feelings that could lead a person to such self-less acts. Was he even capable of such feelings? A little tightness of his chest told him he just might have been; that he wouldn't have minded giving up his own interests and ambitions to spare Saga from any more pain. Maybe old age, his time hidden, had softened him up; if that was the case, it wasn't like he could- would- do anything to change it now.

He would stay by Athena's side and wait; it was all he could do. he'd wait and make sure Saga didn't, for whatever reason that had driven him to attempt it, hurt the one person that meant enough to him to die for.

It was a little funny, he admitted to himself, how they never seemed to fight for the same side. For a moment, Kanon doubted. He was the bad one, the evil one; if there wasn't an ancient being manipulating him, then Saga was the most likely to make the right choice. Maybe his first try at nobility and goodness after so many years was a mistake? Now **that **would have been hilarious.

* * *

Radamanthys was not having a good day. First, Pandora refuses his suggestion to send a few specters to the front, without even letting him speak to Lord Hades. Then, Niobe dies, exposing his actions. Pandora might have missed it, she wasn't really attuned with the spiritual bond the specters shared- but there was no way Hades hadn't felt Niobe's cosmo wasting away. Now he was in deep trouble.

In another time, not only Hades' choice to send Athena's former saints to fight for his cause would have been unimaginable, but, had the situation presented itself and Radamanthys had acted the way he had, he would have been able to explain himself; his lord would have listened. Not anymore. Everything was different now.

Walking outside the castle, the general watched the world from atop that hill, wondering how big a fall his would be. Would Hades send him to Tartarus for his disobedience? What would his punishment be? He considered his future; it wasn't exactly promising. His best chance was that something would happen to distract Hades from the matter, and that was a bit of a long shot. Did he regret it? The truth was, he could have called the specters back; maybe pretend he'd had nothing to do with Niobe's passing, say Niobe had left on his own account. But he was no coward, no liar, and he was already in too deep to back out now.

He still believed he was serving his lord in the best way he could, why take it back? Everything he'd done had been with Hades' interests in mind, even if he'd defied a direct order; taking it back would be a real treason. It didn't matter how hard the fall would be; he'd fallen for him before and would do it a thousand times more, if it was necessary.

A racket from the other side of the castle caught his attention. It sounded like the guards were having a bit of trouble at the main gate. It was somewhat early for Athena's men to have found them, but he figured a little hand to hand combat would do wonders for his mood. He rushed there, anxious to forget about his problems for a while with a good head-smashing session, but what he found there only served as salt to the wound.

Standing over the corpses of the guards- his men, fine men- were two of Athena's former saints; Cancer and Pisces, if his memory served him right. Cancer took a step forward, with a cocky grin on his face.

"Sorry about that, man. They just wouldn't listen to reason." Death Mask eyed him carefully. "Are you gonna be a bitch about this too?"

Radamanthys was livid. Those low-life, back-stabbing pricks had the nerve of killing two of his men and then talk to him with such disrespect? He would teach them a lesson or two about manners, that was for sure. For the time being, though, he'd be the epitome of calm. With an even tone, he said.

"And what reasons would those be?"

It was Aphrodite who answered. He smiled coyly and brushed his hair away from is face in a seductive manner.

"It's just we ran into some trouble. We came back here, as we were told, and we were hoping to ask Hades-sama for a second chance."

"A second chance?" Radamanthys asked, amused. "You change allegiance faster than you change underwear; you claim to be the strongest amongst gold saints, yet you're the first to be defeated. You ask for a second chance?" Aphrodite's face fell, while Death Mask looked like he wanted to defend his reputation. "You're both pathetic excuses for saints and you have the boldness to come here, with such expectations. Shall I remind you that Lord Hades gave you a second chance already, when he pulled your sorry asses from hell?"

"Now, listen here," Death Mask barked. "We're still alive, we weren't defeated, really, we just..."

"You're worthless," Radamanthys interrupted. "Hades might have trusted you once, and I wouldn't dare to question his reasons. But, my lord help me, you're not tainting our sacred cause with your stinking presence a moment longer. Now..." He cracked his knuckles; Aphrodite and Death Mask prepared to fight. "Now I show you what a real warrior looks like, before I send you back to hell!"

He charged towards them, gathering all his strength in his closed fists, ready to tear them apart, when a shout reached his ears, stopping him cold.

"Stop!" The word was simple and one he wouldn't have hesitated to ignore. The voice, he didn't quite recognize. But the tone froze him in place. That, and the feeling in his gut- and his cosmo- of something so much stronger, higher than him, and yet so his own. He turned around, expecting to see the creature that so long ago had won his loyalty, his life and soul's destiny. Instead, all he saw was a little boy with green hair. There were more people there, but his eyes were unavoidably glued to this stranger's. The boy took a few steps in his direction.

"Radamanthys," he said, with something akin to affection in his voice. "I appreciate you intention, I have a half mind to let you finish, even." The boy walked up to where Aphrodite was standing and took the man's chin between his delicate fingers. "I've never cared much for this one, and I've heard the other isn't any better." While the Cancer saint looked confused- a feeling he could certainly relate to- Aphrodite seemed more than a little preoccupied. The boy continued. "But I need this scum alive... for the time being." He released the Pisces saint, who immediately sneered at him.

"Just because you beat me once, darling..." He wasn't able to finish, though. Death Mask caught his attention by grabbing his arm and shook his head no in warning. "What?" Aphrodite rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"If you finish that sentence," Death Mask let go of his arm and studied the boy carefully. "I don't think you'll have much chance of getting in his pants."

Aphrodite blinked a few times before gasping audibly. The boy just smiled. Radamanthys, who'd been too dazed by the boy's mere presence, shook himself and dropped onto one knew, bowing his head.

"My Lord," his voice trembled, "I beg you forgive my insolence. I did not recognize you."

From his place on the floor, he couldn't see much- aside quite a number of feet. Radamanthys couldn't understand what was happening; not entirely, anyway. Pandora had been taking care of his Lord's incarnation for the last thirteen years, hadn't she? During all those years, he'd seen Hades a handful of times. The majority of those times, all he'd seen had been a little boy- that looked much like the one he'd just seen- lonely and distant, and sometimes, vicious and angry. There was no doubt in his heart; he was in the presence of the Lord of the Underworld. But there was something different; he now seemed complete. Not to mention, the green haired boy hadn't precisely come from 'inside' the castle.

A pair of black boots entered his limited field of vision. He tried to prepare himself, but he had no idea of how Hades would react; how offensive his delay to acknowledge him had been in his eyes, if he'd found it offensive at all. His Lord had stopped being predictable- or rational- a long time ago and experience told him he got only more erratic with each incarnation.

But, a moment later, Hades' hands were on his shoulders and his boyish form- that did his ancestral body every bit of justice- was kneeling before him, to talk to him, face to face. His expression, much to Radamanthys' surprise, was grievance. For a moment, he stared into those big green eyes and Radamanthys felt as if he was being transported to another place and happier times, and he felt safe.

"Do not fear me, my friend," the boy said, smiling sadly. "I know why you would... should. I know I've been..." He lowered his eyes. "Radamanthys, I'm still very much lost in this world, in this life; but I remember those who've always been with me; every world, every life. Don't be afraid."

Radamanthys was speechless. With every word, the boy seemed to become frailer and frailer, to the point when he felt the urge to hold him, protect him, like in times passed. Someone beat him to it, though, and he took notice of his Lord's company for the first time. A dark haired boy with a stubborn appearance helped Hades up and pulled him into a half embrace. This young man tried to hide it, but the love in his eyes was evident. Radamanthys immediately liked him.

"Are you OK, Shun-chan?" he asked, voice full of concern and throwing a mistrusting glance Radamanthys' way. "Who's this git? Did he hurt you?"

Hades shook his head no and smiled tenderly. The innocence in that smile, while bringing pleasant memories, took Radamanthys off guard.

"He's a friend, Nii-san. Don't be rude." The boy giggled, causing the other boy to blush almost unnoticeable. Radamanthys extended his hand, dazed by the candid scene.

"I'm one of the Lord's generals. Radamanthys," he all but whispered.

"Ikki." The young man shook his hand firmly. "I'm Shun's older brother." There was a coldness in Ikki's voice, a sternness in his stare that, rather than throwing him off, Radamanthys found endearing. This kid really cared. He'd still ask him about calling Lord Hades 'Shun-chan', though.

As if the surprises hadn't been enough already, Hades took him by the hand and led him to where another two people he didn't know stood. Their height and hair color was practically the same, though it was obvious they were not at all related, and not only because of the intimate proximity they shared. The most noticeable difference were their eyes. While the bright pink of the one's irises were entrancingly beautiful, it was the other's blue ones that caught Radamanthys' attention. That guy looked as if his cat had just been run over, or something. Hades, however, introduced the pink eyed boy first.

"This is Sorrento," he began, and the cheery quality of his tone stuck him as fake this time around. "We fought once; I almost lost. In spite of some bad companies, he's cool." Hades glanced at the blue eyed young man as he said this, with the same spite and anger in his expression Radamanthys was used to seeing there.

He wasn't the next to get introduced, either; they moved to where the silver saints were. He remembered them and, of all the saint's- Athena's- that he'd sent, the silver had seemed the lowest to him. Now they looked scared, terrified, stirring the slightest of compassions in him. "I suppose you already know them, eh?" Hades appeared pensive for a moment, then shrugged. "Oh, well; there's a lot we need to talk about. I need to freshen up the old plan so I can make some adjustments and brief you on them. Why don't we go inside? I'm freezing and Pandora must be anxious to see me."

Still holding his hand, he started walking towards the gate; the rest following in obedient silence. But Radamanthys was curious about the young man who'd obviously received the cold shoulder, and spoke before thinking.

"What about him?" he asked, pointing.

Hades turned his head violently, again, his face was the picture of anger, only this time it had been unleashed. The feeling of safety flew out the proverbial window and into the abyss he'd been contemplating before. Radamanthys kicked himself for his carelessness.

"You know very well who **he** is!" Hades snapped, releasing his hand and storming inside.

The rest started to follow, but it took him a little longer to get his feet to respond. They did, eventually, and he walked in just behind the two gold saints he almost killed a while back. Aphrodite shook his head and leaned to whisper into Cancer's ear.

"We are **so** screwed," to which the other man just nodded.

Radamanthys wouldn't be too hasty to disagree with that statement.

* * *

The fall had been horrifyingly frightening. It was no wonder you had to be a zombie to endure it. Aldebaran wouldn't so much as admit it, but he'd been scared. It hadn't ended with him breaking ever bone in his body, though. Could spirits even get hurt? Aldebaran wasn't sure, but suspected it was so.

He realized now, after that endless fall, that wherever he'd been before hadn't been all there was to death; maybe just the waiting room. Or what would be worse, a preview. It was still a sort of relief, you can imagine, but Aldebaran wouldn't get too exited. The place he was now in, wasn't exactly encouraging, either. Just a barren, dark place with no apparent horizon bordering a dark, thick pool of water (or so he thought at first) just as endless and dead as the land. This place, he gathered, had to be the shore of the River Styx. Apparently, he'd somehow missed the entrance to the Underworld and, with it, its auspicious welcoming words.

This place was the first, clear sign that what he'd grown to expect of the afterlife even existed. Of course, Hades was now their enemy; the supposed ruler of that place. But, if all went as it was supposed to go, Charon would take him to the other side- provided he accepted part of his cloth as payment- and he'd join all the other warriors in Elysium.

But the shore, that went on forever and seemed packed with wondering souls, and the river, wide and dark and still, showed no signs of a ferry-man. So Aldebaran, figuring he should go look for him , instead of just stand there waiting for the man to come to him, began walking along. How could one man ever help so many souls across? The Taurus saint felt a little like when he was a boy, trying to understand how Santa visited all he houses in he world in just one night.

Without a body, a physical form, every soul looked the same to him; soon, Aldebaran stopped looking at them and focused on the water. While this new spectacle didn't provide that much difference in diversity, the sight was mind-boggling. It wasn't really water; it couldn't be. As still as it was- not one wave ever hit the dark sand- it was evident at plain sight, almost palpable, that the liquid was oily. To him, it almost looked hungry, alive, ready to devour him as soon as his feet faltered. Unconsciously, he stepped a few steps further from the water.

Time seemed to have stopped; or maybe it was just irrelevant in that place. He wasn't sure for how long he'd walked before his eyes abandoned the engulfing substance- it had felt like an eternity and a split second at the same time- but, when he lifted his eyes, the shore was abandoned. He was alone and, for a moment, it scared him.

A sound, almost imperceivable and yet so loud in the dead silence, made him look back down, to the tiniest ripple of liquid. Then came another, and another, and his eyes, as if with a will of their own, started traveling, searching for the source of that movement. They found it, what it looked like a small, black spot at the beginning and grew, fast, rhythmically, into a small boat. A figure, huddled under a black cloak, rowed his way up to him, head low, giving Aldebaran the impression of extreme exhaustion. The man's head moved up in a most unnatural fashion and, cocked slightly to the side, revealed an old, wrinkled face that resembled more a skull than a human face. The eyes, black as everything in that place, were so deep in their sockets that it was almost impossible to read the diabolic mirth in them. Almost.

"Look what the cat brought in!" the man taunted. "Your lot is dying already? Can't say I'm sad..." He smirked. "Or surprised."

Aldebaran scolded, his pride deeply wounded, but refrained from opening his mouth. The last thing he needed was to antagonize the man further. He removed his helmet. The cloths were sacred, yes, but Aldebaran knew very well that what he was wearing was not the real thing. So, giving it one last glance, he handed it over to Charon.

"I think you can make two pennies out of this."

Charon studied it curiously, thoroughly, before smiling.

"Well, hump in, child. It's a long way from here to hell."

Aldebaran did so, mentally praying for the man's words to have been just figurative speech.

* * *

It wasn't his Temple, that much was true; Shaka figured, though, that no harm could come of him defending it, even if from a distance. He could feel the traitors getting closer; his rosary showed the glimmer of 107 specters- not 108, anymore. The odds were in his favor, and the glorified graveyard that was the Cancer temple was the perfect arena for his final fight; the one that would- had to- result on his death.

Shaka would serve Athena, of course; after all, it would be fighting her enemies that he would meet his fate. But, as it had always been, the only master he would really serve would be himself. The Virgo saint had seen the error of his ways, yes. Now he understood that his own lack of emotion in the face of injustice, his impassive approach to other's suffering, didn't make the world free of injustice and suffering, didn't make the sufferers and victims guilty of their pain. There was nothing virtuous about looking the other way. Now the world had been unfair with him, denying him death; now he suffered at his new found desires. But he deemed it too late to change, perhaps, because his fear of letting go of the lie he'd been living went beyond any rational realization of the Truth. He'd die the same way he'd lived. Serving his own interests.

The sight of the Cancer temple was terrifying, and all the more pleasant to Shaka for it. His illusion had brought the hell he'd meet soon enough into those ancient walls; corpses everywhere, the odor of decaying flesh, darkness, black and engulfing, and, above all, the absence of any ray of hope. So different from the Nirvana that had made his world start to crumble, and yet so appealing. Death; and it was he who'd created it; a reflection of his soul.

Camus and Shura walked in first; Saga was close behind them. Shaka was pleased by the disconcert and horror in their faces. Of course, Saga realized it was an illusion first, but he would soon find it wouldn't be so easy to break it.

He was taunting them, letting them know he would not rest until they killed him, that they would get nowhere long as he was alive. It a reminder, as after a few moments of fighting him, of running, the men now stood- both virtually and literally- on the palm of his hand- the great Buddha's hand.

They had been his comrades, people he'd known since he was a little kid, and he felt nothing but pity for them. The man closest to God could feel no love or affection for those who'd been closest to him. It was for that reason that, even when he had their lives on the palm of his hand and all the power he could want over them, he'd give his own life to them. Then, the last of a frail construction of lies would fall. Hadn't God told him, after all, that there wasn't an afterlife? Hadn't he believed- and therefor acted accordingly- that Nirvana could be only reached in life?

_**TBC**_


	13. Ch12 Age&Youth

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

**THE AGE OF YOUTH**

Shion almost smiled when Dohko's pupil came so fervently to his master's aid. The young man, though dissimilar physically, was Dohko's spitting image when it came down to his spirit. Oh, the old man played it cool now, but he'd once held that same fire and passion in him. It was almost sad to see him now, wrinkled and broken, but the former patriarch was not entirely fooled; this was still Dohko before him. It'd be cold in hell- and he knew first hand it wasn't- before Shion thought of underestimating him.

It was no surprise to hear that the young man was there against his master's orders; and Shion found the scold on the old Libra saint's face to be most endearing. Dohko was berating the youngster, ordering him to stay out of it, arguing that he couldn't hope to fight, blind as he was, while the Dragon saint stubbornly repeated that he could be Shion's opponent; that he didn't need his eyes anymore. Shion was prone to agree with the young man; even through those bandages, it seemed he was looking straight at them.

The scene made Shion long for the years he'd missed with Mu. He hadn't had the chance to watch Mu grow, to scold him when his spirit turned rebellious with age, with the craving for independence. If the time had been another, if the world had been different, Shion would have wanted to ask Dohko to join him for dinner, perhaps; a royal feast to commemorate old times and catch up with the present. Maybe they could even have Mu and the Dragon saint join them as well. He was certain they would make wonderful friends, just as he and Dohko had. How he wished they could have such a peaceful, joyful moment in store for them! As it was, he could only enjoy, secretly, the exchange between master and student.

"But I can take him!" the boy exclaimed vehemently, with a note of frustration in his voice. "I'll be his opponent! There's no need for you to risk yourself, Roshi!"

Dohko shook his head tiredly.

"Son, this war is too big; even for you. It is Athena's wish; my wish. Go back to Shunrei. There's no time to waste arguing. Now, go!" All this was delivered, of course, in a wise and even tone, but Shion could detect a hint of parental annoyance under it.

He wondered if Dohko was aware of the time limit being imposed on them. The Libra saint had lit the flames of the ancient clock, yet his words led Shion to believe he didn't know that stalling them was the best way to ruin their plans. Or maybe- Shion hoped- Dohko suspected there was something else behind their treason, and knew they didn't have much time to clear things up.

The boy, apparently, didn't realize the delicacy or urgency of the situation. In his eyes Shion could see the struggle; the boy had the words 'you are too old to fight' on the tip of his tongue, and was obviously trying to find a way to say them, without offending his master. The boy took another step towards them.

"I've defeated Gold saints, Odin's warriors and Poseidon's marines, amongst others! I don't see why this one would be any different!"

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back, Shion thought, as he saw Dohko deliver a hard- yet mild- blow to his student, sending the poor, unprepared boy flying through the air. Disoriented and confused, the boy looked up at his master with a hurt expression.

"Roshi..." he breathed.

Dohko walked up to him, giving him a stern look.

"What did I tell you?" The old master sounded really angry.

"But..."

"Nothing!" His expression softened. "Shiryu, this is no place for you anymore. I know what you're thinking. I'm too old to fight. You think this man is any younger than me? Illusions." Dohko turned to look at Shion. "I can take care of myself."

So, Shion smiled, the old man still wanted to fight. Under that ruined shell there was still his friend; his big eyes betrayed the facade. And though he was, indeed, a peaceful person, Shion couldn't help to be thrilled by the prospect of a good spar with an old friend; just like old times. He knew they'd find the time to talk, eventually.

* * *

Hyoga saw the red and white clad figure ahead and sped up his pace. He couldn't shake his master's words from his mind and, as fast as he'd run, he couldn't escape the dread that had followed him all the way to the sanctuary. Though he could only see Seiya at a distance, he knew Shiryu was there too, but there was no sign of either Shun or Ikki and that, for some reason, made him nervous.

If his calculations were correct, he still had at least ten hours to stop the attack and he figured it would take him an hour or two to get- by foot- to whatever temple the enemy had managed to get to by then. Seiya's form got closer and so did the Aries temple, to where he was obviously heading. It was a bit of a relief to count with him for the fight, to see that the silver saints hadn't killed him and Shiryu, as his master had warned him they'd try. Which, again, made him think of Shun... and Ikki, of course; wouldn't forget about Ikki. What could have detained them?

Soon, Seiya seemed to sense him too and stopped running, for what Hyoga was grateful, knowing he'd never catch up to the Pegasus saint otherwise. The brown haired boy turned around and- scratching his head- waved at him with a smile from ear to ear.

"Hey! Hyoga!" he shouted.

Hyoga managed a smile of his own- if not as cheery as Seiya's- and rushed to his friend's side. Shiryu, he sensed, was a little further ahead.

"Seiya." He bowed slightly. "I see you've heard the news too." There wasn't a hint of bitterness or sadness in his voice. While he hated being nothing but a killing machine, he was secretly glad for the opportunity to interact with his friends and brothers the way he knew best; fighting. Seiya laughed sheepishly.

"No; actually, I came here by accident, but then..." Seiya gave him a funny look then, studying him from head to toe. "You don't happen to be evil now, or anything, right?"

Hyoga blinked in confusion.

"What?" he asked, quite baffled. Seiya looked down- always with a hand on his head- obviously debating on something. Then he looked back up at him, seemingly ashamed.

"Well, you see..." he began, "I just had th weirdest of experiences. I'm still not sure if it really happened or if I hit my head really hard." He frowned. "Besides, if it really happened, I probably shouldn't be telling you."

Hyoga sighed, a little exasperated.

"Are you telling me or not?"

"Promise me you're not evil," Seiya said sternly. Hyoga rolled his eyes.

"I promise."

Seiya waved a finger at him.

"Cross your heart and hope to die?"

"Seiya!" he barked. Seiya waved his hands apologetically.

"OK, OK! It's just this woman-slash-ghost told me our enemy this time around is a close friend!" The Pegasus saint's eyes filled with worry and a bit of sadness after those words left his lips. Hyoga's heart skipped a beat.

"I..." He was at a loss for words. Seiya might have been uncertain about the veracity of those words, but something inside Hyoga screamed they were true. What shocked him the most was that he thought he knew who it was, and he couldn't bring himself to believe it. "And you have no idea of who it might be, or who this woman was?" he asked finally. Seiya shook his head no.

"No idea. As I said, it might have been just a dream. But..." he paused, and Hyoga knew Seiya wasn't as unsure as he pretended to be. He was not willing to share his fears, though, since his reason declared them unfounded. If Seiya had no idea of who it was, and since he had nothing to back them up, there was no use in mentioning what could very easily be the result of him being overly concerned- more like obsessed- with the Andromeda saint. And though Shun's absence was slightly conspicuous, Ikki was missing as well and the Phoenix saint certainly had more experience at being bad. To Hyoga's relief, Seiya interrupted his thoughts. "Let's go, then. If it's true, we'll find out soon enough. And if you say it's not you..."

Hyoga glared, cutting the last sentence short, and they resumed their way to the Aries temple.

"I just hope it's a Gold saint." Hyoga heard himself whispering, and felt bad as he said it.

"I know what you mean." Seiya answered, sounding as guilty as he felt.

There was just once thing about that assumption that neither Hyoga, nor Seiya felt like considering, and that was that there weren't many Gold saints they would consider friends. Allies, sure; very admirable people, for certain. But friends? Only Mu, Aioria and Aldebaran, maybe, and none of them was that close to them. Hyoga suddenly found himself wishing it was Shiryu then; even if Ikki betrayed them again it would hurt Shun more than the boy deserved to be hurt, and Hyoga didn't want to see him hurt.

* * *

Pandora was squirming in her seat, overwhelmed by the anxiety and expectation caused by the imminent reunion with her surrogate little brother. Sitting with her back straight as an arrow and her eyes glued to the wooden door, all her efforts, her utter concentration to look as correct and dignified as possible, couldn't stop the butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Her jitters were justified; this would be the first time she would be in front of Hades as a whole. She'd only known, cared for and loved a part of him; there was a chance that the new, complete Hades wouldn't like her or, what would be even worse, that she would not like him.

The minutes seemed to stretch into hours and Pandora had already studied every nuance, every flaw and detail of the carved-wood gate, never being able to drive the worry and doubt from her mind. She could only hope for a private meeting; she didn't want to expose herself, showing her emotions as freely as she knew she would when she saw him at last, in front of Radamanthys or any strange person. She knew her authority and respect amongst the specters was pending from a very thin thread. Besides, if all went well, she wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms tightly around the little boy.

Her heart skipped a beat when, at last, she heard- and then saw- the handle moving. She stood up, unable to remain sitting, or to keep the smile away from her face, as a delicate, pale hand- that rivaled in beauty with her own hands- posed itself on the rim of the door, pushing it slowly open. Pandora refrained from blinking, even when her eyes were starting to sting, because she wouldn't miss a split second of the apparition now before her. It was him, no doubt about it; his face might have been slightly different, but his gaze was the same. And yet... She didn't know what it was but, as he walked up to her, followed by a young man with short, dark blue hair, Pandora noticed the tiniest of differences in his demeanor; a difference that became him, actually. He gave her a small smile and turned to the other boy.

"Nii-san, this is Pandora-san. She's a old friend; my big sister, in a way."

This boy- the older boy- was scrutinizing her harshly; she couldn't help feeling a bit uncomfortable under that stare. She didn't hug Hades, like she'd wanted to. Instead, she bowed slightly before the two of them.

"My lord," she said, giving the other boy just a silent- and not very polite- bow.

Hades' smile broadened.

"This is Ikki, Nee-san. He's my older brother."

Those words registered in her brain and caused her to study the other boy with the same mistrust and harshness that he'd been using, until both of them were frowning and defying each other with stares that could freeze hell. It was Hades' amused giggle what forced them to tear their eyes from each other. For one, Pandora was shocked; she'd never heard Hades giggle before, never mind seen him look so happy and fresh.

"Don't be silly!" he berated playfully. "Neither of you is the kind of sibling you should worry about!" He then leaned towards Ikki, to whisper, "Or be jealous of...," to what the boy blushed slightly and looked away. Hades giggled again and approached her, surprising her by wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. "I missed you. Is that silly of me?"

A little wide eyed, she didn't waste any time returning the embrace.

"Of course not, my Lord. I missed you too." Pandora buried her fingers in his hair, that was as silky as she had imagined it to be. "I was so worried about you," she breathed.

The hug lingered for a little longer. She took that time to watch Ikki, this time with an open mind. He seemed awfully familiar, now that she thought about it. Was he the same boy that, thirteen years before, had so bravely carried his little brother through Tokyo's streets, hurt and with an empty stomach? The same boy she'd given the pendant to, after making him believe it was his mother's last gift to the baby? He had to be, and it was nice to see him still looking after the green haired boy; to see the hardships of life hadn't separated them.

She couldn't stop herself from envying him, though; he'd had a chance to watch his brother grow up happy. He hadn't had to deal with the bitterness fate had dealt her. his Hades hadn't remembered the pain and betrayal; his Hades hadn't cried himself to exhaustion every night. There was something in Ikki's eyes, though, that suggested his life hadn't been a bed of roses either.

They pulled away; Hades kept his arms around her and looked straight into her eyes.

"There's much to be done, Nee-san. I wish I had the time to just sit and talk to you. Though I've only been away for a couple of days, I feel I haven't seen you in ages. Much has changed, I'm afraid." Pandora noted, amazed, that Hades was as worried about her not liking him anymore as she'd been. She could see it in his eyes. She smiled tenderly.

"We'll have time to catch up after Athena pays for her sins. Her saints have gone after her head, as you ordered."

He frowned at this, pulling away completely- and rather abruptly- and paced around the room for a moment before going straight to an old chair that emulated his throne. Ikki didn't hesitate to follow, silently, never saying a word and carrying an expression of grief Pandora could certainly empathize with. Hades sat down and stared at her for a long while, looking pensive. His face hardened suddenly, becoming unreadable.

"No," he said finally. "Her death won't do us any good. She'll just reincarnate in 200 years. Her punishment must be greater; eternal. Besides," he paused, looking down, "I really doubt we have her former saint's loyalty. I've met many of them; some are really good men."

Pandora took a shaky step forward, fear creeping to her heart.

"What should we do, then? They have already started the attack on the Sanctuary. I would have waited for you to give the order, but it was your order!"

Hades seemed surprised by her outburst; hell, she was surprised by it. Fear was a powerful thing. His eyes softened, nevertheless, and he smiled.

"I know, Nee-san. It was my mistake. What's done is done; we can't stop the attack. But I know they won't bring Athena's head; at least not without the rest of her body. She will come here, thinking she can trick us again, and that's when we'll make our move. Go tell Radamanthys to gather the specters and have them cross over. He must stay, though." He turned to Ikki. "Would you mind walking with her? I need to be alone for a moment." It wasn't a request, that much was obvious.

Ikki didn't look so sure, but he nodded anyway. Both of them gave Hades an awkward bow and stepped out quickly. Pandora sighed. He was different; he looked more centered and composed, happier at times, but still as angry. Was that a good thing?

* * *

"Can you feel it too?" The words broke the eerie calm that had fallen over the Leo temple. Aioria almost regretted speaking, as it seemed that his voice had forced them back to reality. It had been a rhetorical question, anyway. He didn't look up, didn't expect an answer, and he didn't get one. His companion just got up and begun pacing.

Loyalty was a weird thing, he couldn't help but thinking. Your brother saves the goddess he'd sworn to protect and, in turn, he dies a traitor. Then you go and try to do the same thing and it turns out you were betraying your goddess all along. Then you try to make amends and get your brain washed and try to kill her, her favorite saint and you end up killing someone that had nothing to do with anything. This opens your eyes and you find that your victim's master, who should hate you, has turned into one of your closest friends. Oh, and, by the way, you love her. OK, so maybe it wasn't loyalty that was weird; just life.

But his thoughts had started on loyalty for a reason. When he'd first felt his deceased friends' Cosmo entering the Sanctuary- and knowing beforehand who they were dealing with and what he was after- Aioria had felt shock first and then anger. Now, he felt doubtful. It was a bit of a long shot but, what if they weren't really traitors? It wouldn't be the first time appearances deceived him. As Shaina had pointed out, even Saga, with his track record, wouldn't turn on Athena so easily. Never mind Camus and Shura; especially Shura, who, in spite of being his brother's executioner, would give- had given- his own life for the goddess.

The whole thing smelled funny and Aioria was busting his brain for an explanation before he had to come face to face with them and his chance to give them the benefit of the doubt expired. It seemed, though, that the matter was bothering Shaina as much as it was bothering him. He focused his gaze on her. Her frown was almost visible through her mask; she was pacing so frantically, Aioria feared she'd leave a mark on the marble floor.

She was so strong, so determined. Just by looking at her, all other thoughts or concerns flew out the window. For a while, anyway, until he began thinking about how unfair the life of a saint was, about how much he wanted a family and how impossible it was to form one; especially with her. He wondered then, what would happen if he were to, maybe, bump into her by 'accident' and 'accidentally' cause her mask to fall. Would she kill him? Marry him?

No; she'd 'try' to kill him, she'd lose and then she'd hate him for being stronger than her. Never mind he was stronger than most men upon the face of the earth; that was Shaina for you, proud and stubborn, and he loved her too much to have her hate him. Just because that had worked out for Seiya, it didn't mean it would work out for him.

Shaina stopped walking abruptly; Aioria himself stood up a little startled. From the Cancer temple, came an explosion of energy that shook them both to the core. The sky illuminated with power, and the blast flew past them, landing somewhere ahead with a deafening bang. He rushed to look outside, and Aioria stared in mild horror at the Virgo temple, that lay now in shambles. Shaina was soon at his side, but before either could comment on it, another surge of energy, even greater in strength, emanated from the rubble that was now the Virgo temple. What came next was a sort of static, nothingness; and the cosmo of the three supposed traitors drowned with it. Shaina turned to him, her head low.

"Do you think...?" She hesitated. Aioria shook his head no.

"I don't. It wouldn't be so easy to get rid of them." Was that hope, somehow, in his voice?

* * *

After destroying the Virgo temple from a distance, Saga hoped they would finally be able to cross; that whether Shaka had survived or not, he would be weakened enough to stop his games. But the moment his explosion died down, Shaka's cosmo flared. The bastard really was powerful, he thought, gritting his teeth. He could already feel Hades' specters closing in on them, getting closer with every moment they wasted, and his desire to avoid killing Shaka waning exponentially as well.

Shaka would strike now, he could feel his cosmo gathering in what would surely be a deadly strike, and unless they found a way around it, this would be the end of their journey. The specters' steps were now audible from the stairs, and the former patriarch gazed at his companions in wonder. Shura looked at the entrance in contemplation.

"I can't separate their cosmo, can you?" he said in an unsure tone, and Saga could see an idea forming in his eyes. And he thought he knew which idea it was, too. "I mean, I can tell they're coming but... I can't separate them."

Camus nodded, Saga smirked, and without any further explanation, the three marched swiftly towards the entrance of the temple.

* * *

So, Charon hadn't lied about the ride being long. Of course, Aldebaran wasn't sure of how long he'd been in that wreck of a boat, but it had felt like forever and still there was no sign of land- though he figured there wouldn't be seagulls around. Did that mean Charon hadn't lied about the 'hell' part, either? Several times during that eternal ride, Aldebaran felt like asking the ferry-man about that place; the Underworld. But the old man made him nervous; there was something about those dark eyes of his, hidden partially under layers of skin, that told the Taurus saint that the man represented- had in him- everything that was messed up about the land of the dead. At the same time, he suspected that Charon wasn't Lord Hades' favorite person in the world. He didn't remember the ferry-man's story from the ancient mythology, but the task of taking endless souls from one bank of the Styx to the other for all eternity seemed more like a punishment than a reward.

In any case, he had to find something to say, soon, because the silence, plus the murmur of the water, plus the lethargic movements of the old man, were sure to make him snap in no time and he'd end up throwing Charon off the boat and scream he was king of the world, or something. Aldebaran cleared his throat, tapping his fingers nervously on his knee.

"So," he began casually, "Do you do this a lot?"

Charon barely turned his head to answer. His voice sounded as drowsy as his movements.

"Do what a lot?"

"You know," Aldebaran stammered, "Help people get around and stuff. Do you get vacations? Do they let you keep the money?"

Charon snickered.

"Are you considering taking my position?"

"No! No, man!" He laughed nervously, "I was just curious! It just seems like such... calm job. You must have a lot of time to think."

"It's hell," Charon answered bitterly, darkly. "My hell, anyway."

The answer, instead of appeasing his curiosity, worsened it. Logic told the Taurus saint that, if Hades had condemned Charon to hell, the ferry-man had to be his enemy in some way. And, if Hades was the bad guy, and Charon his enemy, then the old man was one of the good guys. That reasoning was seriously flawed, Aldebaran realized. There was no way a man with such a dark gaze could be good. It never crossed his mind that Hades might have been a little less bad that what they'd depicted him to be. Charon must have ended up in hell because of a matter of politics. It wouldn't be the first time evil fought itself. Still, the Taurus saint felt compelled to ask.

"Why?" he said, a little hesitant. "What did you do?"

Charon smirked.

"I helped the wrong person across," he said simply, and Aldebaran knew the conversation was over.

* * *

Shiryu was stunned. He'd seen his master fight, in a way, when he was still in training. Back then, it had seemed impossible that such a withered old man could produce such accurate and powerful blows. Now he was in a state of complete awe. It might have been that he was seeing things differently now; through the eyes of his Cosmo there was no deceit possible. An attack that would have worried him before, now was nothing but a flashy way to conceal the adversary's lack of power, while an apparently harmless technique, could now be a real reason for concern. But that wasn't the case; Dohko had helped him train after he'd lost his sight. He had just never seen his master hold so much power in him before.

The other man, Mu's master, was every bit as powerful as Dohko was. Shiryu was mildly relieved that it wasn't he who was fighting, as it seemed the Libra saint had no problem doing it himself. But the fight hadn't even started, Shion and Dohko had barely exchanged a few punches, that the former patriarch hit the old master with his 'Stardust Revolution' a little harder than Dohko had been ready for. The old man fell heavily against one of the pillars. Shiryu found himself holding his breath when his master failed to get back up as fast as he should have; even Shion seemed surprised when Dohko just lay there, motionless, after a considerably worrying, long moment.

Shiryu was about to rush to his side when the old man's Cosmo began flaring around him furiously. So strong it was, that Shiryu feared he would just burst out in flames on the spot. If he had been able to see, he would have had to avert his eyes at the explosion of light that followed. The Dragon saint started to believe his fears had materialized, that Dohko had just burst; he desperately looked for any hint of his master, but the energy around worked like one of those magnetic fields that ruin the directional systems of ships and planes. For a second or two, Shiryu didn't even know where he was.

And just like that, Dohko's presence was felt again, only now it felt like a shield had been lifted from around him. His cosmo felt free now; young and filled with life, and the eyes of Shiryu's soul saw a man, not much older than himself, with shoulder-length auburn hair, standing where his master was supposed to be. What shocked Shiryu the most was the clear, huge tattoo on the man's back. It was a tiger, one he'd heard about, but never thought he'd see.

_**TBC**_


	14. Ch13 Sounds&Silence

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

**THE SOUNDS OF SILENCE**

_As Demeter's daughter, she knew the way the world worked. She also knew, first hand, that her mother was not what she claimed to be, and neither were any of the Olympians. It caused her pain, to know where she came from, but she knew there wasn't a thing she could do about it, except staying away from them as much as she could. She wasn't special, like many other gods; she wasn't even close to being as powerful as her half brothers and sisters, and they mocked her and taunted her for it. She didn't care. She hated Olympus and having to be forced to live there. She still didn't want to be caught in their incestuous and vile circle, and that meant keeping her distance._

_That is why the world found her wondering through its beautiful landscapes one afternoon. She had stayed away from humans, because she loathed them and pitied them at the same time; she didn't like the way her own relatives manipulated and slavered those poor souls, but they had brought it upon themselves. Her own mother used her power over the earth to dominate them, make them worship her. Persephone had seen how Demeter wouldn't hesitate to destroy entire crops and have thousands of people starve to death just for the fun of it. Yet things grew, blossomed, even without her mother's attention. _

_The young goddess wondered about the power that kept the world alive in spite of her relatives. There was love in that world, hidden somewhere between so much hate and ambition, and she had to find it._

* * *

As one of the few saints to have been born and trained in Greece, he knew more about the sanctuary and its surroundings than most people out there. He knew the place like the back of his hand; maybe even better. Milo also knew that he shouldn't have left his temple, the sanctuary, when another sacred war had just started. But the Scorpio saint just couldn't shake the images he'd seen back in Athena's rooms; they were haunting him, not giving him a moment of peace. He had to know what they'd meant, had to know if it had been real, before fighting at her side again, ever. And he knew just the person to ask about it.

Though he knew the exact location of that place, uncertainty and fear began creeping up his soul as he climbed the relatively secluded hill. Many things had changed since ancient times, nymphs and unicorns just didn't walk the earth anymore. All that was left were humans filling the void left by those that had once ruled the world; extraordinary humans, at that, but still just humans. His only consolation was that, even in those days, the person he was now looking for had also been human.

He could have teleported there, he thought grumpily as the sting in his hands grew with every rock that rasped against his skin, if he'd memorized the precise spot when he was a kid. Of course he hadn't known back then that he would need to make use of a place such as that, but he really didn't like climbing, so he berated himself for that anyway. His hands were starting to bleed by the time he saw the entrance to the cave at a distance. He needn't climb no more and, even if there were just a few meters separating him from his destination, he teleported out of spite for the treacherous rocks. Once there, he rushed inside, not only because he was in a real hurry- who knew how long it would take whoever it was to get to his temple- but because anxious to know if his questions would even get an answer.

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness. It wasn't as dark as it should have been, he reasoned, considering it was night and it wasn't like Pythons had access to light bulbs. With hesitant steps, he went deeper into the cave, noticing there was a soft glimmer coming from ahead of him. He didn't think twice before walking straight to it. He did pause, however, once he was in front of the deep crevasse he'd hoped to find there, dread flooding his being not out of fear of not hearing anything at all anymore, but for fear of what he would hear, which turned out to be worse.

The glimmer, he could now see, came from a point in between both banks of the fissure, forming a ball of energy and tainting the place with a mild greenish hue. Milo had studied his history; he knew very well what to expect and those signs only reaffirmed his belief that he'd come to the right place. But once he was actually in front of it, he saw that aforementioned ball was completely empty. No priest or priestess; the glow wasn't even that strong, at least not for something that was supposed to have so much power. The Scorpio saint would have thought it was a ruin, nothing more than a left-over of greater times, like the Parthenon or the Sanctuary itself. And that certainly would have upset him, since it would have meant there was no one there to ease his concerns. But the fact that the energy was calling to him, luring him to touch it, was enough of a reason to believe there just might have been more to it than that.

Milo stretched his hand towards the energy. The crack on the rock was way too deep and wide for him to actually reach it, but he still did it. To his surprise, as soon as his fingers stretched to the maximum, the energy itself began to reach out for him, slow at first, and then so fast it was all around him before he had time to realize what was happening and pull away, before it swallowed him whole.

_"You seek the knowledge of the sacred Oracle,"_ a voice said in his mind, deep and dark, all around him, everywhere, _"and you have proved to be worthy. Ask your question, young warrior." _Milo swallowed hard; he'd really thought there would be some guy- hopefully a girl- and they would talk and that would be it. He hadn't expected being swallowed up by the Oracle! He tried to voice his question, but he just couldn't form the words. Still, the Oracle spoke again. _"You have asked. You shall be answered."_

And the cave around him disappeared for a moment, just to reappear a second later, only now Milo could tell he was not exactly in the same place he'd been before. Or maybe it was the same place, just not the same time. For one, the crevasse was gone, and so was the Oracle. There was no one around, as far as he could tell, and the place was submerged in the deepest of silences; but he knew this was some kind of dream, he could feel the unreal quality of it, and he knew there wouldn't be a point to the illusion if there wasn't anything for him to see there; so he began walking towards the exit, looking for his answer.

He was a little tired of illusions, you can imagine, so his disposition wasn't the greatest. Still, when he finally reached the entrance again and laid eyes on the outside, the beauty of that world- it couldn't be his world; he didn't remember his world to be so gorgeous, so utterly peaceful- seemed to want to make him forget himself.

_"This is what you're kind gave up,"_ said the Oracle, with some sort of spite and amusement in its voice. It was more than just beautiful. It was... real, in its unreality; realer than anything he'd seen before. Complete; as one would have wanted the world to be. Pure.

_"This is what you accepted in return."_ And the ground under his feet trembled. And, just like it happens in dreams, he was back inside the cave in the blink of an eye, only he could tell it was still the dream, because the fissure on the ground still wasn't there. The earth shook again, harder this time, and he saw the rock begin to creak and crumble around him. A red, foul light spurted from the little creaks that began forming, growing. And then he saw it; those same beings he'd seen back at the sanctuary, screaming and shrieking in victory as they climbed out of the crevasse. Suddenly, the world lost it's brightness. Milo already knew why, he'd seen it.

So, it was true, he thought, horrified. He didn't see Athena among those creatures, but he knew she was one of them; of those beings that had tainted the world with their darkness. One little detail made Milo's blood run cold, though; the Oracle, it was located at the exact same spot from where those creatures had come out. It was a part of them two; and here he was, trapped inside it.

_"This is what you're fighting against." _The Oracle proclaimed, taking Milo back outside. It had to be a different point in time. The world was already on its knees, under those creatures' control. There was blood and suffering. Every living-being on the planet was crying in pain while those monsters gloated, torturing them. Somewhere, though, Milo didn't know where, there was peace and quiet. A young man was resting against the back of a tree-trunk, letting the sunlight warm his face. Milo didn't know who he was, but there was as much beauty and peace in him as there had been in the world before those demons appeared. And he transmitted it to everything and everyone around him. Still, there was something awfully familiar about him, an innocence he'd seen somewhere before.

The young man's peace was disrupted soon enough. A beautiful young woman with long auburn hair started walking his way. She looked at him with adoration, and he seemed delighted to see her. Milo gasped though, when he saw that those creatures were hiding behind her. He tried to warn him, tell him to get away, but his voice just didn't reach his ears. Athena, in the foul form he'd seen her back at the sanctuary, was amongst them this time. She was smiling viciously in expectation, as the young woman made her way towards what Milo had thought to be the last bit of good in the world. Was he their enemy? Were they really the bad guys? Milo just couldn't believe it. There had to be more, something the Oracle wasn't telling him.

"Let me out!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. He couldn't trust what he was seeing, but he wouldn't disregard it either. He came in there looking for answers but, by the time the Oracle spit him out and he was back in the cave. the real cave, this time- he was left with even more questions.

* * *

When the heavy door closed behind Ikki and Pandora, Shun slumped on his seat, grateful for a moment of rest, a moment in which he didn't have to put on an act for anyone. He didn't need to be the wounded little boy for Pandora, nor look vulnerable and giggle for Ikki. He didn't need to be the strong-willed leader for Radamanthys, nor the wronged and resentful brother to Julian.

A dry sob escaped his lips. The green haired boy put his head in his hands, gritting his teeth and stifling a scream. Why did the tears cost him more when he was alone? It hurt, to cry, to laugh, to act; it hurt to breathe. He could hear his own heart thumping in his chest; that was how quiet the alleged throne room was at that moment. If he'd been able, he would have ripped his own heart out, just to make the noise stop. It was a constant reminder of his sin; his mortal shell was nothing like the body that had held his soul when it was perfect and divine, when it had known happiness. It was not only evidence of his family's betrayal, of his own betrayal to himself when he'd agreed to their terms, but also a practical inconvenience.

He was somewhat used to his humanity, but it meant that his every action would be temporary, as he was. Unless something changed, drastically, all he did would unavoidably be dissolved into nothingness once he died, and everything would start all over again in 200 years. He wouldn't be able to go through it again. He was tired.

His first impulse had been to return to his original body; while not eternal, it would certainly last a lot longer than the current one, and what better way to make a lasting impression, than with his own, lasting self? He could take over the sanctuary and make sure all of Athena's- and Poseidon's- incarnations died before they even took their first steps. Wouldn't it be sweet to turn Athena's precious world into a dark hell? She would get to experience what it was like to see everything you love being tainted and destroyed.

But something had gone wrong. Now that his memories as Hades had awakened completely, he should have been able to disregard his current human experiences and memories. He should have been able to forget there had ever been a Shun; he was too small and insignificant compared to his whole, older self. It was true that his own reincarnation was a peculiar process; unlike Athena or Poseidon, he couldn't- because of the original nature of his soul- incarnate as just any human. He had to be the purest, kindest of them all. His spirit though, had never truly felt at home in any of these **human** lives; as soon as his memories returned, they would override everything he'd lived in those 13 or so years and his resentment and hurt would would eventually corrupt that pure being, just as it had happened the first time. It always ended up feeling like a possession, even if that wasn't the case.

Not this time, though. Now his memories were whole, his soul had successfully settled into completion; but instead of Hades taking over a weak personality, he found himself merging with this human boy, and now he didn't know who he was. Or maybe he did know; after millennia, he was finally himself again, and that was why it hurt so much.

Make no mistake, Shun's part of his soul didn't make his hurt any less strong; in fact, it had worsened it. For how long had he fought for Athena, taken by her promises and deceits again, lured into war when the last thing he'd wanted was to fight? He, in his oblivious innocence, had believed her again and, again, she'd betrayed him. His feelings for her kind- his own kind- hadn't changed one bit. The pain was the same, only rawer.

What **had** changed, however, was his view of the world. No longer did he think humans responsible for their part in his suffering. If they had scorned him and vanished him, it was only because of the others' lies. They, too, were the gods' victims. He couldn't conceive of taking his revenge out on the world any more. He considered himself as suitable head of the sanctuary as Athena, Poseidon or Ares; after all, he was also corrupt, wasn't he? If not the most corrupt of them all. But he could, **would** not leave the world in their hands a moment longer.

His mind was made up. A little more composed, Shun got on his feet. He knew it wouldn't be hard to get Athena to Elysium's gates and Poseidon, who had honestly surprised him with his submission, would follow him wherever he went. The only thing that could go wrong was that Athena's saints would fail to see there was no point in fighting him. He didn't want any more bloodshed. He couldn't let the specters in on his real plans, though, and tell them not to kill the saints. He knew they would never allow him to carry his plan through. They were all blindly loyal and, though he truly appreciated it, it was their cause they needed to fight for and not him; never him.

He only hoped he didn't have to see **any** of his friends killed before the end, because he wouldn't be able to do anything about it any longer; and that was just how it was supposed to be.

* * *

Ikki was in awe at the magnificence of the castle. It was weird to think that it all belonged to Shun. They had lived in the most deplorable conditions; from dumpsters to abandoned buildings that threatened to fall apart over their heads while they slept. Even the orphanage had been miserable. Then came the Kido mansion for a while, but that hadn't lasted long and soon enough they'd been shipped to their respective islands, that had made dumpsters look like a five star hotel. Life certainly hadn't cut them the fairest of deals; to think that Shun was a god, ruler of many and owner of a place such as that one- never mind an entire spiritual plane- would have been simply too ridiculous to imagine during one of those cold nights when he had wrapped his arms tight around his little baby to keep him from freezing to death; yet it was a reality, it was happening.

Still, he was straining to find something- anything- between those cold walls that spoke to him, of his little brother; even the Kido mansion had warmed up a bit after Shun's attempts to make it a home. This place, though, was as strange to the Phoenix saint as Shun appeared to be at times. He did remember the changes he'd found in Shun's room; they were somewhat consistent with the appearance of this fortress, but definitively not enough.

He thought he could perhaps ask the girl, Pandora, about how Shun had got the castle; she seemed to know the new Shun as well as he'd known the old one. She was walking beside him, appearing to ignore him, but Ikki knew better. After they'd found the blond guy with the weird name and Pandora had informed him of the 'change of plans', she had virtually commanded him to take a walk with her. He hadn't dared to say anything to contradict her for two reasons; first, he wasn't really sure of whom it was he'd be dealing with if she got mad; it was also obvious that she was sizing him up and he wouldn't loose the opportunity to do exactly the same.

The girl herself sparkled his curiosity. He would have sworn he'd seen Pandora somewhere before, yet he couldn't quite say he'd ever seen a woman like her. She was exceptionally beautiful, there was no doubt about that. She was ethereal, hypnotic to look at; she had a delicate, almost childish face, but there was something dark, not necessarily evil but nonetheless frightening, underneath that porcelain-doll face. But, while he was very much interested in both the girl and the castle, when he finally spoke, it was about something else that he asked; something more important, he decided, that would help him throw some light on the mystery that was bugging him the most. Shun.

"Why do you hate Athena so much?" His voice didn't only break the silence, it shattered it. Pandora jumped, turning to look at him with surprise, as if she hadn't expected he could talk, or something. Then her features hardened once her mind processed his question.

"Is it that you don't?" she asked bitterly. Ikki shrugged.

"Not really. I mean, it's not like I like her or anything, but no one has given me a good reason to hate her... yet."

Pandora stopped walking suddenly, her eerie purple eyes flaring with anger.

"Haven't you seen what she's done to him? Can't you see his pain? Isn't that reason enough?"

The tone of her voice, her gaze, her pose, were intimidating enough to make Ikki believe that, if there had been any spirits lurking that place- and he was certain there were- they would have shrunk in fear and ran to hide. Ikki himself took a step back, raising his hands defensively. Still, he smiled.

"Hey! Don't go biting my head off! I said no one's told me **why** I should hate her, not that I wouldn't, once I knew. I do see Shun's pain, but I don't know how she can be responsible for it. I'm pretty much in the dark here."

Her muscles relaxed visibly, and she cocked her head askance.

"He hasn't told you?" she said, a little taken aback. She raised a curious eyebrow when he shook his head no as an answer. "Then why are you following him? How do you know our cause is worthy?"

"I don't," Ikki looked down, saddened. "For all I know, he's the bad guy. But I don't really care. I won't leave him."

She gave him an odd look and nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied with what he'd said. She then started walking again and, without turning to look at him, she said.

"You love him." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, of course I do," Ikki answered adamantly. It wasn't something so obvious, though. In the last few days he'd had enough of a hint at Shun's past to know that brotherly love wasn't to be taken for granted.

"Then I guess we have something in common," she said, her tone lighter, as a small smile graced her lips.

Never mind that she'd completely eluded his original question, he was really starting to like this woman.

* * *

Julian didn't like the situation; not one bit. Of course he knew that Hades hadn't meant to bring him along for tea and cookies; he was well aware of the danger his life was in. Though there certainly was nothing to like about that, it wasn't what was bothering him. He couldn't quite put it into words; maybe because his thoughts were already occupied with too many problems to make room for a new one. All he knew for certain was that it was somehow related to his brother; not that there was much of a surprise there.

He tried to stop thinking, to literally clear his mind of all issues and see if then he could figure it out. But the people around him weren't being of much help, managing to distract him enough that his attempts at concentration were in vain, but not enough to make him forget about everything else.

On the one hand, he had Sorrento; his young lover, who was standing quietly beside him, made evident his concern for his well-being by the way he was resting his head on his shoulder, sighing every once in a while and with his arms draped possessively around his waist. The closeness **was** distracting, but Julian was already used to dealing with it; he had to live with the boy, after all. Sorrento was not the only one, however, to make it impossible for him to concentrate.

It had been almost an hour since their arrival to the castle and, ever since that moment, they'd been waiting outside Hades' chambers; waiting for what, Julian didn't know. It was very likely that his brother was playing with his mind, letting him wait out there, wondering what would be of them and when it would happen. It was most definitively working. Especially since that strange woman and Hades' blood brother had come out of that room with a message for Radamanthys, Hades' general, who had seemed to find something very upsetting in her words.

The man's ritual was not only distracting, but also annoying to no end. Radamanthys would pace around the dim-lit hall, mumbling to himself all the while, for five or so minutes, to then stop abruptly in front of Hades' door. Once there, he would stay very, very still, with his hand suspended over the doorknob, before he'd start to pace again.

Julian had led an army of his own; he knew the way a general's mind worked. The only reason he could come up with for Radamanthys' odd reaction to such a simple order was that perhaps the man had gone behind Hades' back and now found that the change of plans would expose him. Julian wouldn't have hesitated to declare he had it coming; the kind of people that go behind their leader's back didn't arise the slightest of pities in him, because he knew they were the ones to make plans fail.

But he did hesitate, he did feel a bit of pity for the man. He'd seen Radamanthys around his little brother; the man simply adored him, he revered the soil Hades walked on. He was not the kind of soldier to betray his master for his own personal gain; he was loyal. Why, then, had Radamanthys gone behind Hades' back? Julian was almost certain that he had, but he couldn't understand it.

Julian started, opening his eyes wide as it dawned on him. Not only Radamanthys' motives, but also the cause of his new found concern. Someone like the blond general, who had served his brother- and served him well, otherwise he wouldn't be there- for thousands of years, would know better than anyone the best way to please his master. Radamanthys hadn't disobeyed Hades' orders as much as he had done what he'd thought Hades would have wanted him to, what he'd expected of him. Gods, or whatever one chose to call them, were creatures of habit. At first, maybe, they would act erratically; who knows what his own marines would have done if they'd known about his plans to marry Athena? Eventually, though, they would always fall back into a pattern. There was only one explanation for someone like Radamanthys to make a mistake so big that would leave him **that** scared.

Trying not to make himself noticed, Julian pulled Sorrento into a hug, burying his face in the young man's hair to conceal himself. Sorrento, surprised, just managed to hug back.

"We need to lose him," Julian whispered to the young man's ear. "We must find a way in there."

"What? Who? Where?" The marine whispered back, completely confused.

"Radamanthys, Hades' chambers, now."

The young man tightened his hold on him, almost causing him pain.

"Have you completely lost your mind?" Sorrento hissed.

"Look, love," Julian caressed the young man's scalp in a soothing manner. "You know as well as I do he won't let me out of here alive unless I talk some sense into him. I need to talk to him; something's just not right and I need to know what it is. He's not acting like himself."

Julian knew his words weren't entirely truthful; Hades wasn't really acting out of character, he just wasn't following the script. Knowing his brother, the god of the seas knew that couldn't be anything good. Not good at all.

_**TBC**_


	15. Ch14 Heads or Tails

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN**

**HEADS OR TAILS**

Almost every inhabitant of Rodorio was presently asleep. Almost; there was the one woman, a young girl who found it very difficult to get any rest at all. She would toss and turn for hours every night until she was finally able to slip into a restless, nightmare-filled slumber. That night was no different. At the time, she was sitting by her window, nursing a glass of warm milk between her fingers and contemplating the deserted streets.

The milk, she knew, wouldn't work at all; she drank it more out of habit than anything. Her insomnia was caused by something too deep to be mended with home-made remedies. Although her mind was empty of memories before her arrival to the village, somehow a sort of anguish and longing had made it past her amnesia. She couldn't remember what caused it, but she sure could feel it. Staring at the streets did ease her mind a little, though. It really was a beautiful village, as humble as it was. Each house was as simple and rustic as the next and that simplicity contrasted greatly with the magnificence of the hills in the background and the ancient ruins that rested atop them. They gave Rodorio an air of importance of which all villagers were aware and proud of.

It was curious, but she'd never seen them in any tourist guide or TV show, as all the other ruins in Greece. They looked far too important to be left out and ignored. Maybe, she thought, it had something to do with those strange people that were said to be living there. She had seen them in passing once or twice, never from up close, but she'd heard a great deal about them. In any case, she had always found those ruins in particular to be absolutely fascinating.

The girl squinted her eyes when she noticed, near those very ruins she'd been watching and thinking about, a faint blue glow. It wasn't the first time she saw it, either; three times already in the past year and, every time it appeared, she would feel a sort of inexplicable urgency she couldn't define. Were they U.F.O's? Had she been abducted, somehow?

While she wondered about this, the stillness of her home was broken abruptly by an insistent pound at the door. The young woman jumped, alarmed, and backed away from the window in fear. Who could it be? It certainly wasn't a social call. She slipped on her dressing gown and tiptoed her way to the door. She hesitated to ask who it was, remembering many a tale about midnight burglars and murderers. Of course, a thug wouldn't knock; but a killer? They weren't precisely famous for making sense. Still, they seemed determined to get an answer. She scanned the room with her eyes in search of any heavy objects she could use to defend herself and swallowed hard.

"Who's there?" she asked in a shaky tone.

"A friend," a female voice replied. An unfamiliar female voice, which made her statement rather ludicrous. But it was a woman, she thought relieved; she could take on another girl, right? "I'm... a friend of your brother," the woman finished.

She gasped at the words. What nonsense was this? She didn't have a brother, did she? Despite herself, she opened the door and her heart skipped a beat at the sight that met her. Red hair, silvery mask, and far too little clothing for her own sake. Yes, it was a woman, but not just **any** woman. She was one of **them**! Of the people from the ruins, standing at her doorstep, looking for her!

"What do you want?" she said in a high-pitched tone, backing away.

While some of the things she'd heard about them depicted them as warriors at the service of mankind, there were also the stories about one of them showing up in the middle of the night to steal, rape and murder. That woman certainly had fulfilled the first part of that 'urban legend', hadn't she?

"I need to speak with you," The woman stepped inside, closing the door behind her. "Seika."

* * *

Shiryu ran up the stairs, towards the Taurus temple, trying to focus on the task at hand- to help Mu out- instead of the million of questions raised by what he'd just learned. It certainly wasn't easy. To think that, during all those years as his protégé, he'd been so protective of the 'old' man, always reluctant to leave his side for long periods of time, fearing he would die during his absence, while, in reality, his master had been only a few 'physical' years older than him!

He tried hard not to feel cheated, but he couldn't help wondering why Dohko hadn't confide in him, after all they'd gone through. He honestly felt he'd been played like the biggest of fools. It hadn't been at all unusual for his master to use his age to get Shiryu to do what he wanted him to. And, though he wanted to believe there had been a good reason for his master's silence, he just had to wonder if that had been the only lie he'd fed him. In any case, the unconditional trust he'd had for the Libra saint had shattered into bits. He would ask him about it, of course, after the battle was over; but he doubted he'd get a satisfactory answer.

A terrible explosion shook the young Dragon out of his musings and he stopped running abruptly when he realized where it had come from. His master's and Shion's cosmo had exploded all of the sudden, leaving no trace of them behind. Shiryu couldn't retain the gasp that escaped his lips. Were they really dead? They couldn't possibly have died after such a short fight! Not both of them, anyway.

The young man was appalled; his every sense let him know there was no more of his master and guilt about his previous thoughts invaded him. No matter what, the man had been the closest he'd had to a father and to think him dead torn Shiryu apart. He argued with himself, not certain of what to do next. Should he go make sure there was nothing he could do for his master, or should he continue climbing and help Mu deal with the growing number of attackers?

He had to fight back tears, but the decision was a clear one. He had never, in all his life at Athena's service, felt such a number of enemies in one place at the same time. Gold saint or not, it was obvious Mu wouldn't be able to deal with all of them on his own; just as Aldebaran hadn't been. On top of things, Mu was his friend. If this were to be another of Dohko's tricks- and somehow he had enough to suspect that- and the Aries saint got hurt because he hadn't been there, he would never forgive himself.

At least, he thought a little relieved, he'd sensed Seiya and Hyoga arrive. They would join him soon enough and then he'd be in the company of the only people he could trust blindly at present; his friends.

* * *

The explosion died down around them and Dohko stared at Shion quietly for a moment. The field he'd created wouldn't last long and he had to make good use of the little time they had. Taking a step towards his friend, he watched with a certain amount of amusement as the former Aries saint took a cautious step back. Shion looked a little shaken and confused, but he had to admit he was doing a fairly good job in hiding it.

"Everyone thinks we're dead," he said in an even tone. "Which stands truer for some of us. Now talk."

Shion blinked, startled, and seemed hesitant to open his mouth before he'd corroborated Dohko's words. The Libra saint saw the exact moment in which his friend realized he'd spoken the truth, because a smile crawled all the way up to his face. Dohko let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding. Shion's entire expression had changed, the defensive stance flown out the window, as soon as he realized he could speak freely. He'd been right.

"You've got to tell me how you did that," the other man said lightly.

Overjoyed, Dohko could do nothing more than to approach his old friend and hug him, to what Shion reacted by laughing wholeheartedly and hugging back.

"It's been too long, my friend. Too long." Dohko patted the other man's back, laughing himself. They parted slightly, still gripping each other's forearms tightly in a friendly manner.

"Indeed, you old fox. You've known all along?" Shion arched his eyebrows in disbelief. The Libra saint shook his head, letting his shame show.

"I'm afraid I had my doubts, and for that I'm sorry."

Shion shrugged it off.

"Don't worry about it. I would have doubted myself, If I'd been you." He smiled sheepishly then. "I have to confess, though, that I was counting on you to realize before we had to do something... unpleasant."

Dohko frowned a little at this, as another question came to his mind.

"The others; Camus, Shura...?" Shion nodded.

"They're in on this as well. Even Death Mask and Aphrodite, I'm afraid."

"I suspected as much, but it's still good to hear. I am still not sure," he hesitated. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean to accomplish with this, though. You've put yourselves and the lives of your allies in a great danger!"

Shion sighed sadly.

"You know about Athena's cloth." At Dohko's affirmative gesture, he went on. "It's the one thing that can guaranty our victory in this war."

The Libra saint thought he could understand now.

"And you were murdered before you could tell anyone about its location."

"It's not only hidden," Shion said gravely. "If that had been the case, I would have trusted you to remember about it and eventually find it. But Athena sealed it before passing and this seal only she can break."

Dohko shook his head grimly.

"Everything is happening too fast. The goddess awoke merely a year ago, and we've got to this point already. Last time, at least she had time to remember!"

"As much as it hurt me," Shion went on, "this was the only way I could think of to get to her in time. But, having made a pact with Lord Hades, I knew the moment I opened my mouth I'd be sent back to the underworld and, whoever had heard me, would have gone down with me. That is why I could not let you know of our real intentions, before now."

The mortified expression on the former patriarch's face caused Dohko to smile sadly.

"Your secret is safe with me, my friend. You needn't fear. But we have to get you to her chambers as fast as we can. I know how you must have suffered, fighting your boy like that; I don't want any loyal saint having to go back to the underworld with the guilt of having killed a friend."

Shion nodded firmly, satisfied.

"Lets get moving, then. There's little time."

* * *

Radamanthys watched his hand trembling over the doorknob. Not all the deep breaths in the world could have steadied his battered nerves for what he had to do next, for what he'd been trying to do for nearly half an hour already. He didn't fear death or punishment as much as letting Hades down. But he had been meditating about it for far too long and needed to make a decision at once. Either he called Zeros and ordered him to call everyone back, or he let Hades decide what to do next. Sure, he knew which one was the **right** choice, but those are usually the hardest to actually make.

He sighed, finally managing to 'touch' the knob, if not turn it. He could feel yet another specter dying at that very moment. Ten so far. He'd underestimated Athena's saints, for sure. Most likely, Hades had already realized what he'd done. It would be better for him, he reasoned, to go to Lord Hades on his own account, before he sent for him. With that thought, he pushed the door open, at last.

Hades was hunched, head in hands, on his throne. It really was hard for Radamanthys to see his lord in the body of that particular boy, for some reason. He looked so beaten, in pain even, and the sight made his heart ache.

"My Lord?" he breathed. To himself, he added, _'Please, don't be crying.'_ The young boy raised his head slowly at the sound of his voice and focused a pair of wide, shocked green eyes on him. His breathing was ragged and there was something- something mad- about his expression that made the general take a step back in fear. "My Lord?" he repeated, this time in a high-pitched tone.

"What..." Hades got up from his seat with a great effort and took a few steps towards him. He looked like he could have collapsed at any moment, and the general would have wanted nothing more than to go to his aid, but he knew better than to get any closer to him right then. "What have you done?" the boy growled deep. Radamanthys gulped, kneeling before him immediately.

"My Lord, I..." _'C'mon!_' he berated himself. _'You can be more verbal than this!'_ "I don't know what to say. I'm... I thought..."

"What have you done!" Hades now bellowed, staggering. "You son of a worthless bitch!"

The general winced; this wasn't going as well as he'd hoped it would.

"I'll call them back, sir. There's still time and..."

Hades launched himself at him, gripping his neck with both his delicate hands. Radamanthys, taken by surprise, fell backwards, landing on his back and hitting his head hard against the stone floor. The impact, in fact, caused him more harm than Hades' hands. The boy was barely able to hold his own weight above him, less alone choke him to death. The general did not push him away, however, and would have gladly died at will if he'd been able to, just to please him.

Eventually, the boy realized he wasn't accomplishing anything and soon stopped trying to strangle him, opting for slamming his fists weakly to Radamanthys' chest instead, as he dissolved into sobs.

"Why? Why?" he cried, "They could be dead now! They could all be dead! They're innocent!"

Close to tears himself, Radamanthys could do nothing but wrap his arms around that frail form and pull him closer. To his surprise, Hades didn't recoil; in fact, he seemed to rather welcome the embrace.

"Forgive me, my lord. Please, forgive me," he whispered, as the boy's tears leaked through his cloth.

"No more," he mumbled. "I can't take any more death, please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Stop it!"

Convinced that he was boarding on delirium, Radamanthys sat back up, pulling the unresisting boy up with him and, with an arm around Hades' shoulders and another under his knees, he stumbled upward. The boy snuggled closer to him, as if starved for contact, mumbling things that made less and less sense with each second that general made his way to the little chamber that was hidden behind the throne by a thick red velvet curtain. There was a small bed there, where he could rest his Lord and let him sleep until he recovered his strength.

He, of course, was immediately out the door, calling his servants and ordering them to go for the remaining 98... 97 specters, as soon as he'd laid the boy down. Whoever Hades had been talking about, whoever he was trying to protect, Radamanthys would make sure to keep as safe as he could, even if it meant leading Athena to believe she'd won this round.

* * *

Shaina found Aioria's pacing rather relaxing, even if the cause of such pacing was the anxiety they were both feeling towards their situation. Waiting was always the worst part of any combat, she concluded, but there was something reassuring about the way the Leo saint moved, like a caged animal, waiting to pounce you the moment the cage opened. Or maybe she just found it mildly endearing.

It was for the level of attention she was devoting to it, that she almost jumped, startled, when the pacing suddenly stopped, and Aioria stared to an indefinite point in space, with a deep frown set on his brow. Shaina almost groaned, not wanting to hear about yet another problem. Aldebaran and Dohko were already out of the picture, Mu was in deep shit and they weren't only being attacked by a mob of ruthless specters, but also by resuscitated ex-comrades. It couldn't get any worse, could it? Apparently, the Leo saint seemed to think that it could, and it had.

Whatever it was he had sensed, however, she'd missed it. She tried to figure it out by herself, but it was useless. As much as she dreaded the 'bad news', she needed to ask sooner or later.

"What now?" She made no effort to keep the annoyance from her voice. Aioria seemed pensive for a moment, then turned to look at her with a grave expression.

"It's Seiya," he said, and her heart skipped a beat. "He's here."

Shaina stared at him, waiting for him to add that the Pegasus saint had been dismembered, or that he'd joined the forces of evil; anything that would justify his stance and her concern. But she realized there wasn't anything else to that statement and, fuming, she smacked the man hard across the head.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" she bellowed.

Aioria held a hand to the sore spot and stared at her wide-eyed.

"What did I do, now?" the Leo saint cried, a little pathetically. She just huffed, raising her hands in frustration.

She immediately felt bad for being so harsh on him and that annoyed her even more. She'd never before felt any kind of remorse for biting someone's head off when they were being stupid. Why now, then?

"You go all grim and serious to tell me Seiya's here?" she barked.

"Well," Aioria shot back, defensively. "He's not supposed to be here! He could die!" he finished dramatically.

"Hello!" Shaina almost smacks him again. "We all could! He could give us a hand, though, so I call that **'good'** news!"

"I'm sorry," Aioria looked down, looking embarrassed. "But... he shouldn't be here." There was something else to Aioria's voice than mere concern or respect for Athena's orders. If Shaina hadn't known better, she'd thought it was jealousy.

"OK, granted." She softened a little. "But at least he's on our side. Think about it; I lost count of the number of specters after they reached thirty, and we're already short of two men..."

Aioria frowned at this, gazing back ahead.

"We should be heading towards the Cancer temple, to help Mu. It will be easier to beat them if we fight together, and it's not like they play fair, right?"

He'd delivered the entire speech with a tone of firm determination, up to that one last word that somehow ruined the effect. Shaina ignored it, though. She was too happy to care about Aioria's obvious search for her approval; so happy, in fact, she could have- in some absurd, parallel universe- just hugged him. Now she was gonna get a chance to beat up some bad guys!

Aioria must have interpreted her silence as a negative, because he slumped. Shaina, surprising herself, took his hand and turned him around, leading the way.

* * *

"Do you think he's even noticed we're gone?" Sorrento asked, as they took yet another turn in what was starting to look more like a labyrinth to him than a castle. Julian stopped walking and, after looking around to orient himself, shook his head.

"I doubt it. We'd know by now if he had." He then frowned in concentration, pointing to his left. "His chambers were in that direction, weren't they?" Sorrento nodded.

"Yes, as far as I can tell. But, I don't understand. Why didn't we just try to distract that other guy, Radamanthys? I don't see how we're supposed to find a way into his room by getting further and further away from its door!"

His voice wavered a bit. While it wasn't like him to question his Lord's methods, he was still set firm in his determination to stop treating Julian as his master and start seeing him as a lover. Lovers did have a right to question. He still needed some time to get used to it, though. The god of the seas smiled knowingly as they started walking again.

"This is an European castle, love. Medieval, at that. I bet you the Atlantic Ocean there's a hidden passage to the throne room. People had heads to look after, you know?"

Sorrento smiled, seeing Julian in a light mood for the first time in days. It was the thrill of the hunt, he figured. He, himself, was being affected by it. He felt a little dumb for thinking about something like that at a time like that one, but he couldn't help finding the idea of going through a secret passage to be most exiting.

"How are we supposed to find it, though?" Sorrento didn't sound so incredulous this time; just curious, like a tourist on a guided tour or something. Julian certainly seemed to understand that world a lot better than him, so he was the perfect guide.

"We're not really getting away from his chambers. Haven't you noticed? We're going round it. I just need to find a room that's right next to it or behind it, that would otherwise pass unnoticed. And I think..." He paused in front of a small door. "This just might be it."

He pushed it open and they both walked in. It was a bedroom, a small bedroom apparently meant for a woman, but not precisely for a queen. Still, for its simplicity and humbleness, it sure had a big, posh bed; a huge four-poster bed with a beautiful red velvet canopy. There was also a rather simple dressing table, that in some way didn't agree with the rest of the furniture; he wasn't an expert on decor, though, so he couldn't quite point out why. And last, but not least, there was a huge, worn-out tapestry hanging from one of the walls showing a very beautiful- though somewhat archaic- pastoral image. The implications of the purpose of that room- if it was, indeed, the one with a passage- were not lost on Sorrento, who couldn't help the blush that crept to his cheeks.

Julian began patting the tapestry, raising a cloud of dust that had Sorrento's nose itching within seconds. The older man's head disappeared behind the fabric, soon to be followed by the rest of him. After a few seconds, Sorrento heard the sound of stone sliding against stone, while the cloud of dust became even thicker. Julian's outline under the tapestry vanished and the younger man heard his voice calling out for him, echoing as if he were in a hollow tunnel; which, by the way, was probably the case.

The marine was fast to comply. He had to try very hard not to sneeze when it was his turn to handle the filthy fabric. It turned out that the tunnel's air was even more vitiated than the room's, though. It was obvious that passage hadn't been used in ages. Sorrento tried to get his eyes used to the darkness, but it soon became evident that there wasn't the slightest bit of light for them to absorb in the first place.

"Julian?" he said, taking a hesitant step forward. As an answer, he heard the sound of a match being lit; from where Julian had produced it, though, only God knew, but he was glad for his lover's resourcefulness. The man in question smirked smugly at the disbelief written all over Sorrento's face.

"Matches and a Swiss knife," the older man joked, as the dim, yellow light of the match uncovered a few torches hanging from the walls. "Can't leave the house without them." Sorrento laughed wholeheartedly. The stronger light of the torch put an end to at least **one** of their problems. Julian stared at him deeply and extended his hand, which he readily took. "Shall we do this?"

"As long as you promise me we won't end up in a dungeon, sure." Sorrento smiled and they began their march.

_**TBC**_


	16. Ch15 Forward&Backwards

**AN: _ I think that, from this point on, the story diverts completely from the canon. About Mu, he appears a little wimpy in this chapter. If his scene had progressed as in the series, he would have kicked ass. That's all I'm saying._**

_**Enjoy!**_

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN**

**ONE STEP FORWARD, ONE STEP BACKWARDS**

_Persephone hid behind the trunk of an evergreen, watching the woods with growing expectation. She could feel it, the calm in the air that would follow **him** around everywhere he went. Even the animals seemed to feel calmer, happier, and the tree branches seemed to reach out for him. She was the only one who grew anxious at the mere thought of him, but she couldn't say it was an unpleasant feeling._

_She'd been watching him for weeks now, always in the shadows, never daring to come close. He was an angel, a real angel, not like her family or even herself. He had to be, to conjure so much peace with his presence. She hadn't dared to ask her mother about him. She had heard her talk with her siblings about him and had always had the impression that he was some sort of monster. Now she knew that had only been what Demeter had wanted her to believe. She should have known they were all lies; evil only fears that which is good, after all. Curiously enough, it had been Demeter herself the one to make Persephone realize the truth. If she hadn't heard her talking to Zeus and the rest, if she hadn't heard what they really thought about him, she'd never realized it was **him** the one she'd been looking for._

_The girl held her breath. She could already hear him approaching. The dark haired boy sat with his back against a tree just a few feet away from her. She couldn't be sure, but she thought he sat closer and closer to her everyday. Maybe that would be the day, maybe she could finally speak to him. Would he listen? Would he trust her? He turned his head and, for a moment, she thought he was staring right at her; but soon he turned away, with a soft smile playing at his lips, and her heart could beat again. Persephone took a deep breath. Could he know? There was only one way to find out._

_Hesitantly, she came out from her hiding place and got rid of the distance between them. He didn't look at her or showed any sign of having noticed her, but she knew he was aware. The girl was surprised to see that, from a closer angle, he didn't look as young as she'd thought. It was his aura that seemed as innocent as a child's; otherwise, he must have been her mother's age._

_"Hello," she whispered. He lifted his eyes and smiled brightly at her._

_"Hello," he answered. "I was hoping you'd talk to me today."_

_So, he'd known all along. Persephone smiled a little embarrassed._

_"I wasn't sure you'd want my company."_

_Something, a mixture of hope and sadness, crossed his eyes and he patted the space beside him._

_"Would you like to accompany me now?"_

_She sat down next to him without even thinking about it. She was entranced by how pure and earnest his expression was, something she really wasn't used to. She wondered then, what was that that she felt for that man with a child's soul, that had her heart beating madly and yet gave her a sense of absolute peace. She could have stayed there, at his side, till the end of time._

* * *

Zeros walked- crawled- away and Radamanthys sighed tiredly. It was done. Now, all they had to do was wait. He turned, knowing he'd find Minos there and not looking forward to it. And there he was, with his back against the wall at the other end of the hall, glaring at him.

"I hope you know what you're doing," he said dryly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Radamanthys ran a hand through his hair. He really wasn't in the mood for questioning.

"I only know it's the only way to do what he wanted," he snapped back, "I don't have to like it, and neither do you."

The other man nodded, but his gaze showed he wasn't at all satisfied with the answer.

"He wanted us to give Athena an advantage?" he asked sardonically. "Or was that your 'interpretation' of his desires?"

Minos was a good man, really, and one hell of a warrior- no pun intended- and the general could very well understand why he was doubting him; but the man just couldn't put his childish jealousy aside even for a moment and, in the state he was in, Radamanthys doubted he'd be able to put up with it for long. He took a deep breath to steady himself.

"You can ask him yourself, if you feel like it. But no, he doesn't want Athena to have the upper hand."

"Then why the change of plans?" Minos demanded. "Or is it that you're covering up for your mistakes?"

"Minos," he said in warning, but it did nothing to placate the other man. Radamanthys sighed again. "If you must know, he doesn't want either the specters or the saints involved in this. Not unless it's absolutely necessary."

The other man's expression did change then, going from annoyance and defiance to confusion.

"Oh," he said simply. Radamanthys thanked the heavens for having succeeded in getting the other man off his back and turned to leave. "Wait," Minos stopped him. The general almost groans. "Do you have any idea of the **why**?"

At least, he thought, this time Minos' tone wasn't reproaching or demanding. Radamanthys recognized the look on the other's eyes and had to sympathize with him. It was a look of hope.

"I'm not sure," he hesitated, not knowing how much of his impressions were truth and how much delusion. "But he looks... different, ah... like himself, you know? At least, that's how he seemed to me."

Minos smiled sadly, killing the last bit of tension between them.

"Yeah. That would be..."

"Yeah."

The other man shrugged, as if shaking himself from a dream, and straightened up.

"I must be going, then," he said. "Aiacos will have a fit when he finds out and I can't leave Lune in charge for long, unless I want an overpopulated hell."

Radamanthys chuckled and watched him go.

It really was nice, to hope again. He just wondered how long it would last.

* * *

Mu wouldn't have shown it if his life had depended on it, but he was scared. The moment he'd set foot on the Cancer temple, a strange and powerful cosmo had seized him and paralyzed him before he could even see it coming. That was, on itself, quite scary, considering how fast and powerful **he **was supposed to be. But whoever was doing that to him hadn't had the dignity to show his face, or answer any of Mu's numerous demands that he did so. His attacker was playing with his mind; with that kind of power, the specter could have easily killed him already. And that wasn't all; Aldebaran and Dohko- and Shion, but he tried not to think about that- seemed to have fallen as well. What kind of enemy were they facing? Somehow, he doubted the bronze saints, with all their good intentions, would be strong enough to save their asses this time around.

It had seemed like an eternity had passed already when, in reality, it had been only a few minutes since he'd been 'captured'. He was just starting to loose hope of anyone saving him when he had a chance to see how things became even more complicated and his situation more delicate. Out of nowhere, several specters came into the temple. At least, he thought with a hint of sarcasm, those he could see. One of them, a huge fellow with a nasty-looking face that Mu gathered had to be their leader, approached him slowly, in a predatory manner, smiling down at him smugly.

"Look what I've found, guys!" he said with humor in his voice, as he bored his eyes into Mu's. "It seems Papillon's caught himself a pretty little bug this time." The others laughed stupidly and the foul looking specter grabbed Mu's chin between his fingers. "Can you talk, pretty? Why don't you tell Giganto your name?"

Mu could have just spit on him.

"What do you want?" he hissed. The man let go of him and looked around.

"We're looking for those traitors you people call saints. They were supposed to strip your little goddess of her head, but it seems they are slacking on the job."

Mu smirked.

"You lost them? And here I was, worrying about the specters, when you're so incompetent you can't keep an eye on your own."

This comment, of course, hadn't been meant to please the specters in the slightest, so Mu really couldn't have cared less when Giganto grabbed him by the neck, clearly not as amused as before.

"They are **not** part of this group, and you better tell me where they are before I show you just how 'incompetent' we are."

"How should I know?" Mu said with some difficulty and a whole lot of spite. "I wasn't the one supposed to be babysitting them."

"That's it!" Giganto growled. "I'm killing you now, insect!"

"_Wait,"_ a deep, echoing voice stopped him and Giganto immediately let go of Mu's neck. _"If Athena's traitors can't do the job, we'll have to finish it for them. You go on to the next temple, I'll deal with this one. He's mine."_

Giganto nodded in silence, as did the rest. Mu watched them go with fear for both his and Aioria's life. When the last of them was out the door, Mu realized he could move again. It was a clear indicator that the owner of that voice intended to fight with him, which was good and bad at the same time; good, because it meant his opponent had some semblance of honor, at least; bad, because if he'd been able to paralyze him so easily, little chance Mu had of winning even in a fair fight.

"Come out!" he yelled, trying to keep the apprehension from his voice. "Show yourself!"

"_Very well," _the voice said calmly. _"But to see me won't do you any good."_

And then, the Aries saint regretted t have ever asked him to appear. He –it– was the most grotesque thing he'd ever laid eyes on. It certainly wasn't the last thing he'd chose to see before dying. The thing, in truth, had no shape; there were no words, in any of the languages Mu was acquainted with, to describe just how ugly he was. Mu's nose wrinkled on reflex.

"What **are** you?"

"_I'm Papillon Myu, your executioner."_

Suddenly, the thing seemed to explode, throwing flashes of blinding light that spurted from its body. Mu took a step back, building his Crystal Wall around him to protect himself. The thing's body started to shred, causing Mu to feel nauseated. Remembering Niobe, he wondered if all of Hades' specters were meant to be repulsive. Mu saw the other's distraction caused by whatever sick metamorphosis he was undergoing. As an opportunity; the Aries saint attacked him full force with his Starlight Revolution. His blow, however, served only to help Papillon to get rid of the remains of the shell that had once been his body. Mu watched in horror as a sort of larva came from under the chunks of torn flesh. It opened its mouth, throwing an infinity of threads at him- like silk threads, that seem to move out of their own volition- trapping him.

_"Soon you'll be wrapped in them completely. There's no use in you trying to break free."_

Mu still struggled, though, as the threads kept on enveloping him, tighter and tighter, until it became hard for him to breathe. It was useless. All he could do was stare at that horrid creature and silently beg his friends and comrades for forgiveness. He'd let them down; he was going to die.

As the threads began circling his face, though, Papillon straightened up abruptly, as if he'd heard something, and the threads stilled.

_"Well, well," _he said after a moment. _"It seems the stars like you. You won't be dying today."_

There was no anger or frustration in his voice, only acceptance, and Mu, realizing that Papillon had been ordered to spare him, wondered who in Hades' realm would have cared for his life at all. Gulping for air, the Aries saint fell to his knees as the threads dissolved into nothing. Papillon smirked. _"Maybe next time."_ And he was gone.

Mu, with a hand on his throat and eyes open wide, looked around the temple, unable to believe he was still alive. It made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Why would Papillon leave, when it was evident the battle was already his? Not that he was complaining, mind you.

He was still recovering when he heard someone's footsteps as they came in. After one moment of irrational panic, when he'd been convinced it was another specter coming to finish him off, Mu realized it was actually Shiryu and he, relieved, allowed himself to collapse on the ground, falling into a state of semi-consciousness.

* * *

The boat retreated slowly after leaving Aldebaran on the other bank. The Taurus saint stared after it as Charon rowed it away, humming some cacophonous tune to himself with a pleased, almost maniacal, smile on his face. That was a fellow he wouldn't be missing, for sure. When the boat was nothing more than a distant spot on the horizon, he turned to try and figure out where to go next. At a distance, he could see a huge, white building and, though this shore was as wide as the previous one, he immediately recognized it as his destination.

The dread he felt for what might happen to him once he got there didn't weigh enough against his desire to find out, once and for all, what was there waiting for him. It was for that that his pace quickened considerably without him even willing it to. It wasn't long before he found himself at the base of an obscenely long stairway. Unwilling to let it discourage him, and unable to contain himself, he ran all the way up to the building's gates. The one good thing about being dead, he thought, was that he hadn't a breath to lose through the exertion.

The building, as it was to be expected, was a classic construction. Some words were engraved in Greek atop the entrance; he thought they stood for something along the lines of 'Palace of Justice' and, somehow, that balanced his feelings more in favor of the dread. The idea of being judged by an enemy was not precisely enticing. He took a step in, anyway. It wasn't like he could actually choose not to be dead anymore and come back at a less compromising time.

The interior did not surprise him at all; columns, marble; once you've seen a Greek building, you've pretty much seen them all. One thing did catch his attention, though; the place was as quiet as a tomb, which made kind of sense, if you thought about it. Not long after he'd entered, a guard walked up to him, barely disturbing the silence with his careful, soft footsteps. There was an air about him, the kind that all stupid people posses when they have some sort of power over others.

"Welcome to the first prison," the man said in a barely audible whisper. "I'm Marukino, guardian of this holy place. No word should be uttered from your lips; no sound should disturb this sacred place. Any disobedience is punished with hell."

The man motioned him to follow him and he did, in silence for the time being. Nothing would keep him from asking his questions when the time came, but he would play by their rules if it took him a bit further. The other man went on softly as they walked to the center of the huge hall. "There's no use for secrets in this place. Every act, every mischief, is registered in our records, and Lune will be you judge this day."

They stopped right in the center of the circular room and the guard left the Taurus saint to ponder about his words. Aside from the fact that he doubted he'd get a fair trial, Aldebaran wondered what it was that he truly deserved. He'd died without a heads up, so to speak; he hadn't been able to evaluate his life and regret whatever it was there to regret. Then again, he'd always known there was a big chance he'd die young and done nothing to ensure himself a clean conscience. But he hadn't been a bad man, had he? Surely not bad enough that he deserved eternal torment!

The sound of new footsteps shook him out of his reverie. Another man came into view. He was obviously higher in rank than the first and was holding a heavy looking book between both his arms. Aldebaran figured they were the aforementioned Lune and his record. He'd have to say he liked this one worse than the guard. There was something about this man's gaze that suggested he wasn't the most open minded person out there. Just the kind one would want as a judge, huh? He stopped in front of the Taurus saint and studied him closely, taking particular interest in his attire.

"Your name?" he asked in a stern, yet quiet tone as his brow knitted in a deep frown. Aldebaran answered in kind.

"I'm Taurus Aldebaran, Gold saint at Athena's service." There was little he could do to hide the pride that those words carried.

The other seemed disgusted at him. He shook his head.

"If it were up to me," he began in a resentful tone, "you'd burn forever in the lowest pit of hell." Aldebaran held his breath. "But I have special orders for your kind."

He was about to ask about the meaning of those words when his vision started to blur. He had the faint sensation of falling again and his body seemed to go numb, but he wasn't at all scared, for some reason. "You ought to be grateful for my Lord's mercy," he heard the man speak before his world turned black once more.

* * *

The match lit with a hiss and Shun focused his eyes on it, observing the way the fire devoured the wood. He liked candles, he really did. He wasn't quite sure of which **he** exactly- maybe both?- but it really didn't matter anymore. Their light was unlike any other form of artificial light; warm, comforting and mysterious. Lighting them, though, was even more gratifying. Having a room in complete darkness being bathed slowly, one candle at a time, with that gorgeous yellow light and knowing it was his hand doing it; it really felt good to give light rather than taking it away.

He hadn't been awake for long, but he hadn't been able to stay in bed either, in spite of how heavy and tired both his body and mind felt. So he'd sat, cross-legged on the floor, lighting every candle reverently, as if each was the first he'd ever seen- or was it the last?- to try and clear his thoughts. He couldn't shake off the memories of the moments previous to his second pathetic break down in the span of a day. Both times, he'd tried to 'choke' someone to death when he knew very well all he had to do was wish them dead hard enough; after all, wasn't that the very reason for his exhaustion? Because he had to counter his own desires to die? It was obvious, then, that he hadn't truly wanted for either Julian or Radamanthys to die. While he was grateful that his unpredictable insanity hadn't cost him his dear general's life, he could not comprehend why he had refrained from killing his big brother. Sure, it went against his plans, but they were more like guide-lines, anyway. He certainly could have carried on as intended with the little mermaid out of the picture and, if he couldn't, hell, he could have just brought him back!

Hades sighed. He knew he didn't want to shed any more blood and that included Julian's. But he also knew- at the back of his mind, perhaps- that it hadn't been just that. The match consumed completely, burning his fingers. He let it drop and rubbed the sore spot in contemplation. It had been his eyes; his brother's gaze had been different; kinder.

The thought of Poseidon changing his ways was as ridiculous to him as it was potentially painful. And though his hatred for his brother made it even harder for him to consider, he knew the possibility existed. He had changed himself, hadn't he? Back in the day he'd never harbored thoughts of revenge and destruction; hatred was not a feeling he'd been acquainted with. He knew it was easier to let your soul be corrupted than let it be cleansed from that corruption, but he'd seen true love in Poseidon's eyes when his brother had looked at Sorrento. Wasn't love the one force that made it all possible? Hadn't been love the motor of his own change?

Shun, however, didn't want to believe in his brother's reformation, simply because the idea broke his heart. What if it was true? What then? Should he spare his brother from the punishment he had in store for him? In his heart, he knew that he would not hesitate to forgive Julian if he so much as saw a hint of honesty and repent in his gaze, and that angered him. He wanted nothing more than to put all that behind them and welcome his brother back into his heart. But even if that came to be, if he forgave, he could never forget. And no one would forgive him. He would have to let justice be done, he would have to condemn his brother, even if he fell on his knees praying for forgiveness, even if it killed the last bit of heart he had left. No, he could not want that.

His train of thought was not at all random. Shun had felt his brother and Sorrento approaching long before they got to his end of the passage. Julian did little to conceal his entrance, but Shun pretended to ignore it, using the little time he had left to try and keep himself under control to avoid another pathetic display of vulnerability. Curiously, he noted, Sorrento didn't come in. Shun knew he couldn't possibly believe he was hiding from him. Perhaps it had been Julian's idea, to create some sort of illusion of privacy. Was this it? Had he come to ask for forgiveness? His brother walked up to him and sat down quietly beside him. Though Shun never turned his head to look at him, he couldn't help seeing him from the corner of his eye. Julian looked around the sea of candles and smiled warmly.

"It's really beautiful in here," he whispered, as if afraid to break some kind of fragile dream-scape. "You like candles, huh?"

Shun lit another match and stared at the flame, making sure no emotion crossed his face.

"I'm fond of them, yes. You would be, too, if you had to spend eternity in a world where even the sunniest day chills your bones." And in spite of all his efforts, his tone still came out full of spite.

Poseidon sighed.

"So much for small talk, I see." There was a hint of harmless humor in his voice. Shun finally turned to look at him, frowning.

"What do you want?" he said dryly. The blue haired man didn't seem at all put out; he only cocked his head.

"I don't know; to hang out?"

Shun didn't know whether to smirk or to slap him. He turned his eyes back to the candles.

"I don't have time for your games."

"No, I suppose you don't," Julian replied, rather sadly, and startled Shun by tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with such tenderness it sent shivers down his spine. The green haired boy gasped, frozen, and fixed his eyes on the opposite wall, as his brother kept on stroking his hair gently.

"What are you doing?" he breathed in a shaky tone. Julian scooted closer to him, wrapping an arm loosely around his now shaking form.

"In the thousands of years I've known you, I've never held you, you know?" he said sadly, "I never tucked you to bed, or told you a bedtime story. I never played with you or kissed you when you got hurt, like I'm sure Ikki must have.. Isn't it sad?" With his free hand, Julian tilted Shun's chin so they were face to face. Shun closed his eyes, though, not only because they were filling with tears, but because he didn't dare to look into his brother's eyes and find that they matched the soft, earnest and loving tone he was using. "Yet, here you are," he went on, "Only thirteen years old. Maybe I can still do some of it? Maybe just once?"

As hard as he'd tried to keep them at bay, tears began streaming down Shun's face, and Julian caressed them away. He could not help leaning into the touch. He wanted to be angry; a part of him was yelling that they were all lies, that Julian was trying to deceive him again. He thought that he could have dealt with another of Poseidon's deceits, but he could not help the part of him that wanted to believe him.

"Please," he whispered, "Don't do this." And he wasn't quite sure of what 'this' was. Julian just kissed his forehead softly.

"You think I want you to spare me, right?" he said kindly. "You think I'm doing this so you won't have the heart to kill me?" Shun could only nod. Julian pulled him closer, until his head was resting on his older brother's shoulder. Hades felt an incredible pressure on his chest, that was at the same time caused and relieved by the embrace. "If the only way to make up for my sins to you is by dying by your hand, then kill me a hundred times, little brother. I will not stop you." The intensity of his brother's voice left Hades out of breath. Poseidon pulled away slightly and looked down then, smiling sheepishly. "I do have to ask something of you, though."

Hades narrowed his eyes, half expecting the other to show his true face then; it was actually very unsettling that only half of him expected that.

"What?" he said evenly, trying not to show his inner turmoil. "What is it that you want?"

Julian stared deep into his eyes.

"I beg you, leave humans out of this. They hurt you, I know; but only because we caused them to. Let the punishment fall where it must."

Stunned, Shun took a deep, shuddery bread and looked down. He'd never been one to miss what was standing right in front of his face; there was no use in denying what was painfully obvious. He reached out for Julian's hand hesitantly, at the same time thinking how ironic it was that, even when he was trying to make amends, his brother still managed to hurt him. Still, he had the strange sensation of a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

"You…" he muttered softly, "You've changed."

Julian just stayed silent, hiding his eyes behind his bangs. For once, he realized, it wasn't him whose body was shaking. Shun straightened up, awkwardly pulling Julian into his arms as he saw the older man loosing control of his own emotions. His brother clung to him like a life-line.

"Forgive me," he whispered to Shun's ear. "Please, forgive me."

It wasn't until he felt moisture leaking through his T-shirt that he realized Julian was actually crying. Shun tightened his hold on Poseidon, surprising even himself with the amount of affection he poured into the embrace.

"I forgive you," he said, a step away from crying himself. "But I can't let you go. Do you understand?"

Julian nodded against his chest with a certain amount of urgency.

"Thank you," he rasped out. "I don't deserve it, but thank you."

* * *

A virtual army of specters was well on its way to the Leo temple, climbing in both silence and expectation. Three of them ran at the back of the procession, trying to keep their heads low and not draw much attention to themselves. They hoped the stolen cloaks would serve them as cover for a little longer. Maybe if they mingled in that group, they could stay in the back until they got to the last temple. While it wasn't easy to witness others attacking their comrades and do nothing to help- as it had happened a moment before- it was far more bearable than having to attack themselves. Still, Camus couldn't help hating himself and worrying about Mu's fate, and Aioria's future.

Camus' heart constricted with grief as he found himself wishing for yet another one of his friends to lose in battle; something he knew could only result in death. But, if Aioria turned out to be strong enough for the specters and happened to win, he would expose them and force them to fight him. Aioria, however, didn't have much chance in the Aquarius saint's mind. If Aioria was one thing, he was honorable, and honor is an inconvenience when you're up against twenty or so hell spawns. And as much as the Leo saint's death would weigh on him, he couldn't really wish for the alternative.

One look at the top of the stairs and he knew the moment he'd been dreading was actually closer than he'd expected. The Leo saint hadn't waited for them in his temple, as it was customary. He and Shaina were rushing down to face them. He shared a look with Saga and Shura and he could tell by their gaze that the others were having as much trouble coping as he was. Camus closed his eyes, praying to the goddess for forgiveness. When he opened them again, though, he saw that everyone was coming to a stop. Saga didn't give him any time to wonder about this, as he swiftly turned and pulled him and Shura aside, taking them both down. Camus hissed as his face failed to hit the ground by a mere inch.

"What the hell was that for?" he whispered angrily. Saga shushed him and pointed at the specters.

He realized at once what the Gemini saint had seen to cause his actions. The specters were standing very still in the middle of the stairs, as if something they couldn't see had caught their attention. For a moment, he feared they'd been found out, but then the specters surprised him by simply teleporting away. Camus blinked in confusion.

"Huh?" Shura breathed, voicing everyone else's thoughts.

The three turned their heads to Aioria, who also seemed baffled by the sudden and unjustified retreat. All of them, Aioria included, knew that the Leo saint couldn't have presented enough of a threat to scare them away. After sharing a disconcerted look with Shaina, they both resumed their descent, a little less urgently this time.

The three ducked their heads and remained at the side of the stairs, hoping for the darkness of the night to help them hide. Meanwhile, Camus tried to sense if the goddess was still alive, fearing the retreat had just been a result of them having accomplished their mission. But she was still alive- as was Mu- and he could not sense a single enemy within the Sanctuary; except for themselves, of course.

They kept very still and silent, and making sure their cosmo didn't so much as spark, until Aioria walked right past them and they could allow themselves to breathe again.

"Do you think," Camus said softly, "that they're all gone?"

"Maybe," Shura said, doubtful. "Or maybe they're just waiting for us to come out."

"We need to keep going as planned," Saga interjected, obviously trying to suppress in himself the same hope he intended to suppress in them. "We can't trust they won't be around to hear us if we speak more than we should."

Shura and Camus nodded solemnly and stood up as soon as Aioria was out of sight. They were about to start climbing again when Camus' blood ran cold. The other two didn't seem to notice and went ahead, while the Aquarius saint fixed his eyes, wide with surprise, on the hand gripping his ankle for dear life. The hand, as it was, was not as shocking as its owner, who lay there, at Camus' feet, with eyes unfocused and puffy. Camus gasped and knelt beside him.

"Milo?"

_**TBC**_


	17. Ch16 Right&Wrong

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN**

**RIGHTS AND WRONGS**

At some point, they had stopped crying and settled into a comforting and peaceful cuddle. Julian had his back against a wall, with Shun nestled safely in his arms, neither of them saying a word. It wasn't that they lacked things to discuss, quite the contrary. The mess they were in had taken thousands of years to take form; it wouldn't just go away after a rushed and desperate apology. Athena was still out there and he seriously doubted the stubborn girl possessed enough foresight to do the right, sensible thing. She would come after his brother, there was no questioning that, and they should have been talking about it, about what to do when it happened. At least, he thought, he had Hades' word that he would not get humanity involved; that was enough to make him stand by his side in battle. His methods and his sanity might be questionable, but his cause was just. So that was one thing he didn't need to decide.

There was still the issue of his fate. Hades had forgiven him, which was more than he could have expected under the circumstances; but he'd also made it clear he wouldn't leave him off the hook. He was still a dead man walking, and he couldn't begin to imagine how he would explain that to Sorrento, who was still waiting for him at the passage with no idea of what had happened and enough reasons to be freaking out.

Julian, however, did not want to break the calm they'd fallen into with words, did not want to bring them back to reality just yet. Hades, Lord of the Underworld, and he, Lord of the Seas, brothers for as long as they'd been enemies- and even longer than that- were finally able to **be** brothers, beyond semantics. They had never been as close as in that moment and Julian was in awe about it happening, and amazed he hadn't wished for it before.

But it had to end eventually; he'd known that. He had stretched for as long as it was possible. It was a good thing, too; he didn't have much time left; he should have been making the most of it. It was his brother, thought, who came to it first. He stirred in his arms and lifted his adorable, tear-stained face to look at him with huge green eyes that still seemed a little distant.

"Brother?" he whispered faintly. Julian squeezed him affectionately.

"What is it?"

Shun stared into nothingness for a long moment, his face grim.

"They will come soon," he mumbled and Julian needn't ask what he'd meant.

"I know," he answered gravely. "What will you do?"

Hades' face hardened.

"Let them come." His tone was bitter. "Let them meet their fates, head first." Something- like pain- flashed through his eyes. Hades pulled back from the embrace, sitting with his head low and his shoulders slumped. "I will not hurt them, though. I can't."

Julian approached him carefully, resting a hand on the small of the boy's back.

"You know they will want to fight, don't you? If you try to take Athena down..."

Shun didn't answer at once and, though Julian couldn't see his face, hidden as it was behind his bangs, he could feel the tremors that shook his body upon hearing those words. He then wished that there were a way to change his mind, even if Hades was not the bad guy, even if he was in the right. He would suffer too much, having his friends against him; and what would he accomplish? Athena wouldn't give up, wouldn't repent, and he couldn't really kill her, not permanently. Hades wanted something permanent, Julian could tell but, without Athena's cooperation, little was there to be done. His brother stood up abruptly, startling him. He dusted his trousers and flashed him a strained smile.

"We don't have much time," he said lightly, as if commenting on the weather. "How about having dinner all together, one last time? No one's eaten anything all day. Let us go with our stomachs full, at least."

Shun didn't wait for a reply, moving to a trunk in front of his bed that, Julian was about to learn, served to keep his clothes. The god of the seas noticed the frantic quality of his brother's movements. "Think about it," he went on, "How many people can say they know they're having their last supper? Certainly no one who's lived as much as we have. We should be grateful for the heads up!" A nervous laugh followed these words, as Hades rummaged through the contents of the trunk almost manically.

Julian stood slowly, processing his brother's words. There it was again, that feeling that there was more to Hades' plans than he had imagined or anticipated. It was true that the result of the war was still uncertain; Hades could very well die, as it had happened before. But the green haired boy had spoken of death as victory, not defeat, as if it was what he was aiming at, and Julian didn't like it one bit, even if he couldn't understand how that would work.

He would regret it later, but he didn't dedicate that much time to think it through. He immediately saw Hades' distraction as a chance to fetch his boyfriend without hurting his brother's feelings. He walked to the exit of the passage carefully, knowing Hades was not paying attention to him, and hesitated before opening it. It wasn't something he could do without careful and thorough consideration. He wasn't sure of how Shun would take it if he asked Sorrento to join them. Julian was not stupid, not one bit; things might be better between them, but he couldn't change the past and Hades was still unstable. Any reference to the wonderful relationship he had with Sorrento, made at the wrong time, could end up triggering a bad memory- and his brother sure had his share of those- and hell could break lose, literally.

But he really needed to talk to Sorrento, desperately, and sneaking out of the room to do so could end up being even worse than the first alternative. He turned around to, somehow, let the other boy know of his intentions and jumped in surprise. He'd been so focused on his thoughts that he'd failed to notice Shun had walked up to him and was now standing a mere inch away from him, staring at him intently, with something akin to resentment in his eyes.

"God, little brother!" Julian breathed. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

Hades didn't ease his glare and silently stuffed something into Julian's arms. They were several items of clothing, he noted- all black- and he stared at them confusedly.

"They should fit you and... Sorrento, quite nicely," he spat, his tone filled with venom. "You don't want to look bad on the last night of your life, do you?"

Julian didn't dare to lift his face to meet his brother's eyes now that he'd figured out why the hate had crawled back into them, but he refused to leave it like that. Trying to convey just how ashamed he was, he whispered.

"I know it's unfair."

"You're damn right, it is!" Hades shrieked taking a step back. Julian tried very hard not to wince.

"If it hadn't been for my love for him, I would have never realized my wrongs to you." He sighed. "I can't regret it."

This seemed to have the desired effect on the boy because Julian could almost feel the rage leaving his body. He looked up just in time to see him turning around.

"Don't take too long," he said in a kind, yet forced tone. "I'll send someone to lead you to the dining room in fifteen minutes."

With that, his brother left the room and Julian could breathe again.

* * *

"Milo?" The Scorpio saint heard the words quite clearly and he could somewhat make out the other man's shape through his tears, but no one could really have blamed him for being just a tad skeptical. The man, whose ankle he was still gripping for dear life, knelt down next to him and helped him sit up in a more dignified position. " Milo, my friend; what in the Goddess' name has happened to you?"

There was no mistaking that overly sweet, sticky drawl that still managed to sound cool and collected. This was Camus, his best friend, dead for over a year, now by his side. He could have asked himself how on earth it was possible. Even if he'd half expected his return, it didn't make it any easier to believe. He did not question it, though; after all he'd seen and learned that day, the words 'possible' and 'believable' had lost all meaning to him.

"Camus," he mumbled, clinging to his friend. "It **is **you! You're here!"

The other snorted, pushing Milo's hair away from his face.

"Yes, it's me, I'm here," he cooed. "But I doubt that seeing me has left you in such a deplorable state. Are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to pry it out of you?" he finished in the gentlest of tones, but the Scorpio saint could still hear a hint of humor in his friend's voice.

Milo tried to calm down a little. He knew he was making a spectacle out of himself. It was a little hard, though, since his tears weren't from grief, or joy; he was down right in hysterics, freaking out big time. How could he explain his state, though? Would he sound as crazy to his friend's ears as he suspected he might be? Hell, for all he knew- and there wasn't much he knew for certain anymore- Camus wasn't even there and he was hallucinating.

But, no; the arms holding him weren't an illusion. There really was no reason to doubt, or worry. He wasn't sure of exactly **why** Camus had come back, but surely not to invite Athena to dinner. Maybe he'd also learned the truth about her? Yes, that had to be it. Now that his best friend was back, all would be well. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and sniffed like a little kid, which brought a smile to his face.

"It doesn't matter anymore," he said brightly, "I just can't believe you're truly here!"

He laughed in spite of himself. Camus also smiled, but his gaze was tainted with guilt and sorrow, resulting in a rather anticlimactic expression.

"I'm afraid your joy will be short lived," he said sheepishly. "For now, though," The Aquarius saint squeezed his shoulder gently. "Let me tell you how much I've missed you."

Milo might have been concerned with his reputation, he might have been usually annoyed by the French man's corniness, but he sure as hell would not settle for a squeeze to the shoulder after so long. He pulled Camus into a tight- and quite masculine, mind you- embrace.

"Come here, you frog!" he said, fighting back a very different kind of tears. Camus hugged back, chuckling softly.

"There, there." He patted Milo's back mockingly. "Don't make a scene. I've only been dead for a year." They both burst out laughing and, for a moment, Milo forgot all about his problems. They pulled away, still chuckling, and the Scorpio saint marveled again at being sharing such a joyful moment with his best friend.

"Man, you have no idea how much I've needed you lately! I was miserable!" he exclaimed, not minding to hide his amazement and not caring about decorum. "No one around here gives as good advice as you do!" He frowned slightly. "Mu really tried, though. Did you know he thought we were an item?" he finished somewhat indignantly.

Camus didn't seem at all surprised about this bit of information, which Milo found quite suspicious. The Aquarius saint's face clouded a little and he gave him a sad smile.

"I'm sorry," he began. "I wish I'd been there for you."

Milo shook his head adamantly.

"Don't be! You're here now, so everything will be OK; we have all the time in the world to talk now."

The other looked down, wincing.

"If there's anything that ails you, that you want to talk to me about," he whispered, "then lets talk about it now and I'll try to give you good advice before I'm forced to make you miserable again."

Milo blinked at his friend's words. It took him a second or two, but soon he realized what they'd meant. Camus was there as an enemy of the goddess; surely, he expected them to have to meet in battle. He couldn't help smiling.

"That won't happen, my friend," he tried to reassure him. "I know why you're here."

Camus gasped and Milo saw hope flashing through his eyes.

"You do?" he breathed.

"Yes! And I won't stop you. I…" He paused, swallowing hard, as what he was about to say still cost him a little. "I want to join you. I'll cut off her head myself, if I have to."

"What?" Camus yelped, the very picture of disbelief. "What did you just say?"

"I said," Milo's tone turned unsure as he saw his friend's expression filling with apprehension and shock. "I'll kill her myself, if you want."

The Aquarius saint moved a little away from him and he felt the rejection at once.

"No," Camus muttered, shaking his head in obvious distress. "You don't mean that. You're testing me, aren't you?" he finished, smiling nervously, a bit of reproach seeping through his voice. Milo gaped, not understanding.

"What do you mean? You've come here to kill her, haven't you?" He felt his throat close as it became evident he'd got it wrong. By the way Camus was looking at him, he could tell he would have been dead by then if he hadn't been dealing with his best friend. That was not the reaction of an alleged traitor. He'd got it wrong.

Though he was still sitting down, Milo felt the ground beneath him starting to spin as it struck him and he leaned forward, supporting his weight on his hands, breathing hard. "You… you're not… You're here to save her. Oh, God!"

Again, he realized his sight was blurring, but he wasn't sure if this was because he was crying again or about to pass out. Probably both. He was alone again. For a moment, he'd believed he had found an ally in his friend, that he had found someone who'd also seen Athena for what she really was: a monster.

He closed his eyes tight. He knew there would be no use in sharing what he'd learned with Camus, in trying to convince him of the truth, simply because he, who had seen it for himself, had had enough trouble believing it. He never would have given it any credit if he'd heard it from someone else. Would Camus kill him, then? Or worse, would he forsake him? Deny him as a friend?

A moment later, he felt the other's hand on his back as he drew closer to him.

"You're not well, my friend," the Aquarius saint said gently, surprising him. "I won't judge what you've told me until you've had a chance to explain." Milo opened his eyes and stared at his friend, afraid he was hearing things. Was he really willing to listen? "Come, now," Camus helped him stand. "Let's go somewhere we can talk. Don't be afraid." He smiled. "This is me, remember?"

Of course he did. He remembered. How could he have ever doubted him, Milo didn't know.

* * *

As if on cue, Seiya, Hyoga, Aioria and Shaina reached the Cancer temple's main hall, all at the same time. At its center, Shiryu leaned over an unconscious Mu, slowly and calmly removing the Aries cloth. Mu, Seiya thought, had such a peaceful expression on his face that, once again, he was in awe at the man's spirit. Still, he doubted there was a single person in that room whose heart hadn't skipped a beat at the sight.

"Oh, dear," Aioria said, looking positively mortified. "Is he badly hurt? Should I…" He moved to kneel next to the convalescent man, but Shiryu, who hadn't lifted his eyes from his task once, smiled a little and shook his head.

"He's OK. He's just resting."

They all let out a breath of relief at this. Seiya took a step forward.

"Any idea of what happened to him?" he asked in a grave tone. Shiryu shrugged.

"I don't know any more than you do. He was like this when I found him."

The hint of apprehension in the Dragon saint's voice reflected quite well how everyone felt about it. It wasn't every day that a bunch of guys break into the Sanctuary, kill a Gold saint and knock out another, without so much as a scratch to their victims' bodies, and then decide to unexpectedly leave.

"We saw about twenty of them coming from here," this was Shaina, who was obviously trying not to stare at him, much to his pleasure. Aioria nodded.

"They were halfway to my temple when suddenly they stopped and BAM!, they were gone!" the Leo saint said, sounding as confused as they all felt.

"Yeah," Seiya scratched his head. "We felt them leave, too. Right, Hyoga?" He turned to the blond, who was standing a feet or so behind him, for confirmation; but Hyoga was looking down, seemingly miles away, which was not too different from the way he'd acted most of their way up there. Since the Pegasus saint had repeatedly asked what was bothering him and all he'd got back were a few mumbled 'nothing', if anything, Seiya just rolled his eyes and focused his attention back to the others. "Anyway, does any of you have a clue as to why they left? As glad as it makes me, I can't help but wondering about it."

Aioria and Shaina shared a disconcerted look, then shrugged.

"If they could do this to Mu," Shaina began, "I doubt it was because they got scared."

Shiryu removed the last piece of the cloth and, finally, looked up at him, giving him a relieved smile.

"I have no idea of what's going on." He stretched his hand for Seiya to take and the boy complied, helping him up. "I sure as hell am glad to see you, guys, though."

"Likewise, buddy." He patted his friend's back. "There's no way this is over yet, though." Seiya looked at each and every one of the present and decided it was time to assume the role of leader that had implicitly- and not too wisely, he suspected- been appointed to him. He cleared his throat. "We should take Sleeping Beauty here to his room and then we should compare notes to try and figure out what's happening and get ready."

The rest- sans Hyoga, who Seiya was starting to believe had gone catatonic- nodded their agreement. Shiryu and Aioria moved to pick Mu up but, before he did, the Dragon saint looked around for a moment, as if searching for something. He frowned.

"Hey, do you guys know what's keeping Shun?" There was a bit of concern in his voice. Seiya was about to say that, no, he didn't know, and he was stating to freak out about the green haired boy's safety, when Hyoga magically and suddenly regained the ability to speak. He didn't, however, lift his sullen face.

"He's not coming," he said, in what sounded like an angry, determined tone.

Seiya blinked. There was no way the Cygnus saint could know that. Of all of them, he'd been the first to take off and Seiya knew for a fact that he hadn't seen Shun, or talked to him, since. And besides, nothing had changed; Shun was still alive and, chances were, if there had been an enemy threatening his life, they would have also retreated.

"What do you mean, he's not coming?" he asked, bewildered. Hyoga turned to walk towards Mu's room.

"He's not coming," he repeated. "But we'll see him soon enough."

* * *

Death Mask stared at the dirt gathering between his fingernails for the nth time since he'd been thrown into that dull room that served as his prison. It sure was far more interesting to look at than his surroundings. There wasn't even a bit of luxury in them to distract him from his disappointment towards Hades' idea of imprisonment. Why couldn't the Lord of the Dead live up to his reputation as a host? Where were the dungeons and the whipping? The least he'd have expected was a decent set of shackles around his limbs! When had Hades gone soft?

The room, apparently, wasn't to Aphrodite's liking, either; though he seriously doubted it was for similar reasons. The Pisces saint was sitting on a worn out couch, in front of a rather lame fire in an equally lame fireplace. He had his chin resting on his hands, with a frown of disgust decorating his features. He looked as bored as Death Mask felt and it was common knowledge that a bored Aphrodite could result in very unpleasant and uncomfortable situations. Not that he didn't share a similar reputation but, again, it was for very different reasons and he unconsciously crossed his legs at the thought.

He had half a mind to go pick some embers with his bare hands, just for the fun of it, when he heard the lock. Both he and Aphrodite straightened up, hopeful it was either someone coming to release them, or to execute them; both options sounded good at that point. The light from the hearth wasn't enough to distinguish the face that poked inside, and that was all the lighting they had, but, by the snort that followed, he guessed it was the guard. The man disappeared again and Death Mask heard some muffled voices from the outside. He was contemplating on making a run for it when someone else was thrown in with what looked like a rather impolite push.

The Cancer saint squinted his eyes to get a better look at the newcomer, but the groan that the man let out when he saw them solved the mystery before he had stepped close enough for them to actually see him.

"Oh, please tell me this is a joke!" the man said in a deep, annoyed voice. "Tell me I'm not stuck with you two!"

He plopped down on the one free chair and Aphrodite chuckled.

"You sound as if you weren't happy to see us!" the Pisces saint exclaimed, mock-outrage. Death Mask smirked.

"Seriously, man; is that the way they greet lifelong neighbors in your homeland?" He glanced at Aphrodite. "Remind me to cancel my trip to Rio."

This comment, of course, did not please Aldebaran in the slightest. He leaned forward on his seat and growled dangerously, glaring murderously. The Cancer saint was not put off, however; he found the reaction most amusing. Who knew? Perhaps the Taurus saint would even try to kill him. That would have been a nice change of pace. Aldebaran did not launch at him, though. He just leaned back again and huffed, running a hand through his hair.

"And here I thought I'd been spared," he mumbled. "This has to be hell."

"You have no idea!" Cancer exclaimed. "But I hear you have to be dead to be in hell," he finished sarcastically.

Aldebaran blinked and looked down at himself, patting his chest.

"Am I not?"

"Oh, no dear!" Aphrodite answered dramatically. "We are all a lot more alive than we should."

"What happened?" The Taurus saint seemed even more baffled than before. "I'm pretty sure I was dead a moment ago. What is this place?"

Death Mask stood up, giving the other a lopsided smile.

"Welcome to Hades' own little castle in the land of the living. Germany, to be precise. I hope you enjoy your stay. As to what happened with you being dead and all," His voice darkened. "I cannot say. By right, we shouldn't be alive either. They're keeping us here for something, but I haven't got a clue of what that could be and I don't like it one bit."

Just as he finished speaking those words, the lock was heard again. This newcomer did carry a candle with him, and Aldebaran's face lit up when he saw who it was.

"Thank God!" he cheered. "Are the others with you?"

Even Death Mask had to feel bad for the man, since his hopes were about to be crushed. Hades' face was far from impassive, though. The Cancer saint wondered how it could be that a being that was supposed to be evil incarnated could show so much human emotion. He would bet on the Lord of the Underworld being twice a better man than he was! The boy looked down.

"I guess I need to explain a few things before I can tell you what I've come here to say."

* * *

Athena slammed her fist to the arm of her chair, gritting her teeth. The ordeal was turning more and more complicated as time passed, as well as unpredictable. She didn't like unpredictability; it wasn't supposed to be that way. It just wasn't right.

From the moment she'd realized Shun, one of her own saints, was no other than her infamous uncle, she'd known things wouldn't turn out as simple as they had been before. It hadn't been an accident, either; of that she was certain. Hades' minions were becoming more cunning with each lifetime. As much as she hated to admit it, it hurt to think about killing Shun, and they'd known she'd feel that way. But that wasn't why their plan was so great. Shun was one of them; he knew enough about them to use it against them, whereas they knew little of his army.

Now he'd called his troops back. What was he trying to accomplish? For a moment, she'd harbored the false hope that Shun's love of peace had somehow altered his plans and goals. It lasted only a second, but she believed Shun might have decided to step aside and let things go. It was an unrealistic hope, though. Hades could have simply done it to throw her off balance and, by Zeus, it had worked.

As far as she could tell, now the ball was on her court. The next move was hers. The problem was she couldn't foresee what Hades' reaction would be to any of the possible courses of action she had running through her mind. She could either be obvious and predictable, which many a time turned out to be the least predictable of all actions, or she could try to come up with something original. Hades, however, could very well be prepared for anything she could throw his way. Things had been so much easier before. Why did he have to change the rules?

After a long while of consideration, she came to a decision.

"Kanon!" she yelled, and the man, who'd been waiting outside her chambers for directions, rushed in and knelt before her.

"Yes, milady?" he said gruffly, expectantly. Athena took a deep breath.

"There are four intruders left in the Sanctuary. I want you to make sure they get here unharmed as soon as possible." The man stared at her, wide-eyed in surprise, but she ignored him. "You must also gather every saint you can find in the premises." Maybe it was obvious; maybe it wasn't wise, but her saints had been preparing for that moment- albeit unknowingly- all their lives. It was meant to be and it **would** happen, whether Hades wanted it or not. A warrior could only find glory in death and victory, whatever came first. She knew she would win, though. She always did; she had Nike on her side. Athena cleared her throat and straightened up to look more regal. "We're going to war."

After a moment of incredulity, Kanon nodded and hurried out

_**TBC**_


	18. Ch17 Comfortably Numb

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN**

**COMFORTABLY NUMB**

_He didn't know what was more entrancing, the rhythm of his own heart, frantic still and the last to subdue after the rapture that had taken hold of him only a moment before, or her heartbeat slowing down with his, synchronizing with his and so loud under his ear as he rested, spent yet more full of life than ever, with his head on her bare stomach. _

_He had craved for many things during his long life, though his cravings had never turned into frustrations, hence never tainted him with bitterness. He'd longed for company, a chance at redemption, the acceptance and affection of his kind, even if he would never partake in their questionable ways. Above all, and root to most the things he'd ever longed for, was love. _

_But, unlike his brothers and sisters, who took on countless lovers of the human kind to then leave them in ruins, or even involved themselves in rather ghastly intrigues with each other, Hades wanted a love that built, and not that destroyed. He feared, however, that it was in his nature, as he was one of them, to turn love into that blinding, consuming and destructive sort of passion, so he hadn't really looked for love: _

_Then came Persephone. One by one, she had granted his every wish; company, on the many afternoons they would spend together talking, or simply enjoying the musical sounds of the small clearing where they'd met, the one that had become their refuge; a chance at redemption, because he didn't see a monster when he saw himself reflected in her eyes, and that gave him hope; she was also family, yet she did not despised him. Most of all, she loved him, cared for him, as no one ever had before, and he felt the same. _

_After eons of living deprived of those things, though, and never despairing, Hades found himself feeling hopeless and unbearably sad whenever Persephone had to return home and all through the long days, weeks, sometimes months that would go by before they could meet again. He needed her, and not just what she gave him. _

_For years, things between them had remained the same and, while it wasn't such a ling time for someone as old as he, to him it had seemed like an eternity. That day had been a day too many. A feeling of possession and hunger had overtaken him but he, truly scared of it, of himself, hadn't been able to do anything about it. That same passion he'd been running away from had finally won, and he'd let himself go. _

_She could have pushed him away. It was only afterwards that he realized just how much he'd risked with one simple, impulsive action. He could have hurt her, lost her for good. Persephone, however, seemed to have needed him as much as he had her. She matched her kisses to his in fervor and urgency, his caresses; it was her who encouraged him to take things further. _

_Now, with the warmth of her body pressed against his and the calm that had enveloped them both, Hades wondered what was it that he'd feared so much for so long. He had been blinded by passion, yes, and it had consumed him, stripping him of all sense and reason, but it hadn't destroyed either of them, nor would it, ever. In fact, Hades believed that something new had come out of it; like two precious metals, they had melted together to form something better. They were now one. She would leave again soon- she had to- but he, as much as he knew he'd miss her, didn't feel like he would be left alone anymore. She was now a part of him, and nothing- no one- could ever take her away again. _

_Persephone stirred in his embrace, pulling him away from his thoughts, and sighed contently. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and gave her a smile full of tenderness and adoration. _

_"Don't you wish..." she said a little wistfully. "Don't you wish we could stay like this forever?" She brushed her fingers gently to the side of his face and, by her demeanor, Hades realized she would be leaving sooner than he'd expected, but he didn't let his disappointment show. He just held her closer to him and smiled brightly. _

_"We will, someday. I promise. And that day henceforth there will be no power in earth, heaven or hell capable of setting us apart." He then kissed her forehead, trying to convey just how much he believed what he had just said. "I love you so much," he whispered, voicing for the nth time what was becoming truer and truer with each passing day. "I'll always be with you, now." _

_"I love you, too," she replied, and he knew she had believed him. _

_He had really meant his promise, for it was as much a promise to himself as it was to her. He didn't know how soon he would find himself a liar. He didn't know that, at that very moment, a pair of unsuspected eyes glinted with satisfaction as their owner, hidden in the shadows, realized he had found the perfect way to win his brother back to the shadows he had come from. _

* * *

Mu had come round shortly alter they'd placed him on his bed and, in spite of Shiryu's reassurance, everyone let out a sigh of relief when they saw he was OK with their own two eyes. After the joy, of course, had come the concern for the threat of what was to come and almost everyone- a rather groggy Mu included- began discussing their options and what they should do next. Hyoga, though, didn't share the joy, the concern or the discussion. He felt, for lack of a better word, as if someone had switched him off and he were now functioning on auto-pilot.

Since no one seemed to have noticed the state he was in, he made a superhuman effort to concentrate for long enough to find a corner to sit in. He would have crumbled right there where he stood, but that would have drawn too much unwanted attention to himself. He needed a moment to put his thoughts in order and maybe find sanity again and he couldn't do that with everyone freaking out on him.

It's funny how one can arrive to a life altering realization without even meaning to. One moment he was thinking about how messed up things were- in life in general and not just at the moment- the next he was numbed and trying to pretend he hadn't just realized his world was about to fall apart. One simple thought, on single moment of unjustified anger, brought on by worry and frustration, had unleashed a chain reaction of thoughts that would have never come to him otherwise.

While still climbing the stairs to the Cancer temple, while they were still under attack and he could feel Mu's cosmo wearing away, Hyoga had felt something very close to rage towards Ikki for his absence. And it was just Ikki the recipient of his anger simply because he wasn't able to be mad at Shun. He should have been there, Hyoga had thought, helping. And then, just out of spite, really, the Cygnus saint decided Ikki was most likely to be Hades. He had a history of bad behavior, after all.

But it wasn't long before he realized he was being not only unfair to Ikki, but illogical. His brain simply refused to accept that theory so quickly, so he began doing something he now wished he'd never done; he'd started to think of reasons why it wouldn't be possible for Ikki to be the friend Seiya had been talking about.

First of all- and quite ironically, too- the Phoenix saint had already **been **bad. While it was true that he'd never quite fully come back to the light, so to speak, his reasons for being a 'good' guy were strong enough to keep him in line. Only if that reason disappeared would Ikki ever go back to his old ways, and that reason was Shun, and Shun was still alive.

Not only alive, Shun was also missing. When Ikki had been their enemy, the Andromeda saint had gone out of his way to save his brother; he'd cried and pleaded and had been willing to forgive him even after he'd tried to kill him. But Shun had never, not once, thought about joining his brother. He had stood by their side through it all. There was no reason why it would be any different this time around. In fact, Hyoga knew for a fact that Shun would have been the first to arrive if that had been the case, the first in line to fight Ikki, to make sure he had a chance to repent before it was too late.

That was the point during his reasoning when his blood started to run cold, as an idea he tried his best to ignore began taking form. Shun would never join Ikki in crime, but Ikki wouldn't think twice about it. No, Ikki wasn't Hades, but neither he nor Shun were there. Every other possible 'suspect' had showed up.

Shun **wasn't** there.

He tried, over and over, to convince himself that it was nonsense. A soul as kind and pure as Shun's could never be corrupted like that. It just wasn't right. On the verge of panic, he brought back the memory of the moment Shun had risked his own life to save him from Camus' cold, to prove himself that such a selfless creature could never be evil. That was his second mistake, since he ended up noticing something that had eluded him for over a year. Two people had brought him back from an icy death during that battle; only two people had been able to. One of them had been Athena, a goddess.

Though her power and Shun's hadn't felt all that similar- which was only natural, considering that sort of power is deeply linked to one's soul- they had been a match in strength for a short while. While Shun had almost died, Hyoga knew Athena also would have if she'd been asked to do the same a year earlier. Shun's power had grown immensely in a very short time, more than anyone else's. In any case, many saints had the ability to heal, but only gods could bring people back from the dead.

In any other situation, he would have brushed it off saying he hadn't been really dead in the Libra temple. Not now. He could even remember Shun's loving aura luring him back from the Underworld's entrance. Now it was as clear as water, yet impossible to conceive.

Hyoga's gaze went through everyone's faces, studying each one carefully, looking for any trace of recognition in them and almost hoping he wasn't the only one who'd figured it out. But it seemed that he was. His eyes found Seiya, who was talking rather merrily with Shiryu, and lingered on him of their own accord. Hyoga thought he could recall saying something to the Pegasus saint about it when they'd arrived, but it must have been nothing more than nonsense, since the boy didn't appear to have made the connection yet.

He would have to tell him, wouldn't he? He couldn't just wait till everyone was unavoidably faced with it, and Seiya was the one to go to with this sort of thing; their leader, wasn't he? Yet just thinking about telling him brought a lump to his throat, which he wasn't so sure was a bad thing. Sure, he was having a little trouble breathing and his eyes were starting to burn with tears, but at least he was feeling something, right? What he really couldn't understand was why it felt like he had to tell Seiya that Shun had died.

He must have stared for a little too long because Seiya noticed he was being watched. When the Pegasus saint turned to look at him, Hyoga lowered his gaze and tried his best to keep his expression neutral, but he had to have been doing a poor job at it because Seiya was walking towards him in a heartbeat. He winced; it seemed he wouldn't have time to either compose or prepare himself. He would have to tell him now, when he was on the verge of breaking down. Seiya didn't waste any time either. The moment he reached him, he knelt beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder, ready to go straight to the point.

"It's Shun, isn't it?" he said softly. The Cygnus saint looked up in surprise. Did he know? How could he know and sound so cool about it? Seiya saw his reaction and frowned. "Hey, man," he continued. "I know he's… special to you, but we're all worried about him."

Hyoga almost laughs. Of course, the other had only guessed his state was due to Shun- as if it were really that hard to guess- but he had no clue. None of them had a clue. He wanted to cry out, to hit something. Of all people, why did it had to be him the one to realize first? All he managed, though, was to sit there dully and feel as the first of many tears rolled down his cheek. It was time; he had to say it. Hyoga swallowed hard.

"It's… Shun," he rasped out. "He's…" He trailed off, the words choking him but refusing to be spitted out. Seiya squeezed his shoulder to encourage him.

"Shun's what?" he said kindly, as if he were cajoling him to confess his undying love for the Andromeda saint, or something.

Again, Hyoga felt the impulse to laugh. He'd never do that, he'd never be able to tell Shun just how much he cared about him. Hell, he hadn't even the time to come to terms with it himself! It dawned to him, then. He took a deep breath and gave Seiya his best poker face.

"It's nothing," he whispered, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "like you said, I'm just worried about it. Sorry I lost it."

He smiled feebly at the other boy but quickly stood up, unable to look at him in the face for long. Now he understood why he had felt that way about telling Seiya. Now he knew, the moment he opened his mouth, he'd be signing Shun's death sentence. He knew something else, too. Shun was Hades and, as soon as the lie had found a way out of his lips to protect him, he knew he'd already chosen sides.

* * *

Shaka had opened his eyes, something he very rarely did, and now he stared at the rosary held tight between his shaking fingers. He was shaking, all over, and he wasn't used to that either. In fact, nothing of the gripping sensation of panic he was feeling was at all familiar to him.

They were gone; Hades' specters were gone and he was still alive.

What was he to do now? He couldn't kill himself, couldn't take his humiliation to the other side as well. But how does one go on living when one has already chosen death? Was this some twisted joke of Fate? He'd been beaten, broken and, worst of all, proved wrong. Was it not enough for the gods? Did they have to torture him further?

With a shudder, he let his rosary fall from his fingers. The little beads made a sound similar to that of glass breaking. Athena would most certainly retaliate; there still would be a war. Her pride wouldn't have it any other way. But, just like in all the other battles, she would rely on her bronze saints to do the dirty work. For all he knew, he and the other gold saints would just stand in the background, looking pretty in their shiny armors. The chance to fight in his own arena, under his own rules, had been unique and, just like his rosary, it had slipped through his fingers.

For a moment, he considered betraying her, changing sides, and earn himself a certain death. He quickly dismissed it, though, because there would be no honor in such a death, and honor was one of the few things he had left. What was he to do?

His thoughts were interrupted when someone entered his temple and forcefully took him back to reality. Shaka's breath caught in his throat; it was Saga, and Shura; they were still there! Of course, they weren't really specters, so his rosary hadn't been of any use detecting them and, absorbed as he'd been by his tortuous meditation, he had missed it as well.

A rush of adrenaline got him to his feet. There was still time, a chance, but he had to be quick. Athena would probably want them alive, to extract valuable information from them, therefore wouldn't be thrilled if she thought he was trying to kill them. It wasn't much of a problem, though; if there was one thing he was good at, that was hiding things.

A small smile crept to his face as he used his power to turn the Virgo temple into a labyrinth. No one would get in, no one would get out, until he was dead. He really hoped, though, not to retain anyone for long.

* * *

"Now you know," Shun finished in the same determined, yet slightly pained tone he'd used all throughout his speech. "All that's left is for you to choose what you'll do with that knowledge."

Aldebaran fell back on his chair, mouth agape and unable to comprehend what he'd just heard. He half expected the boy before him to burst out laughing at any moment and tell him it had all been a joke. He waited, but it did not happen. It just couldn't be true. Shun, of all people, was the Lord of the Underworld? Surely there had been a mistake. It had to be, in any case, some sort of possession, like it had been for Saga and Julian Solo (1), in spite of the boy's assurance that it was not so. Shun was one of the best, kindest people he knew; there was no way he'd carried that foul monster within him all along.

Yet, looking at him (and despite the uncharacteristic authority and power he now exuded) he could still recognize the little boy that had always caught everyone's attention and won everyone's affection with his pure innocence. There were things in his eyes and mannerisms that he had never seen before, unsettling things, imposing mannerisms; but everything that he associated with Shun was still there.

"How?" he breathed after a moment. "How is this possible?"

The green haired boy shook his head sadly.

"The 'hows' and 'whys' are no longer relevant. It just is; accept it."

"Accept it?" he said a little louder than he'd intended to, suddenly overcome by rage, and stood up. "You want me to accept that, after everything that's happened, you've decided to become our enemy?"

Something dangerous flashed through the Andromeda saint's huge green eyes, but it quickly died down.

"I did not decide anything," he replied. "It just was; it 'is'. Hate me, if you must. You're probably bound to do so. But don't ask me to explain or justify myself." All of this was delivered in the gentlest of tones, which only served to anger him more.

"Don't you care about your friends?" he bellowed and noticed, from the corner of his eye, that Death Mask and Aphrodite- of whom he'd forgot all about- took a cautious step back. He didn't really care if 'Hades' struck him down right there and then, though; he'd speak his mind or die trying, as he'd always had. "Don't you know," he continued, "just how much you'll hurt them with this? Is it that your newly found powers have made you forget those who care about you? Is the pursuit of some megalomaniac ambition more important than those who were willing to sacrifice their lives for you?"

That was enough; he'd crossed the line and he realized the moment he finished speaking and Shun's face changed drastically, erasing any trace of that kind little boy he remembered.

"Don't forget your place!" Shun snapped. Aldebaran had to admit he felt a very strong urge to get the hell away from there. Who would've thought? "I brought you back to life and I can kill you again if I so much as wish it hard enough!"

Intimidated and, yes, scared as he was, the Taurus saint still snorted with contempt.

"Wouldn't surprise me if you did! What, you thought you could use my life for some form of extortion? You thought I'd work for you? Sorry kid, some of us still know when something's just plain wrong."

This last bit seemed to get to Shun more than any of the rest. The boy killed the distance between them faster than he could blink and, in spite of the disadvantage he had in height, made Aldebaran feel very small all of the sudden.

"Wrong?" Shun let out, his voice full of hatred. "And what does a human know about right and wrong? You use those words, over and over again, as if you owned them. You justify your actions with them, you twist their meaning to better suit your interests and call it moral, you use them to put yourselves above those who are different and then, when it's convenient to you, you simply pretend they don't exist. Tell me, Aldebaran, was it 'the right thing' trying to kill us a year ago? Did you not believe you were doing it for the right reasons, while knowing full well that killing is wrong? Tell me," His face was now barely a few inches away from his own and his voice came out as a hiss. "Is it right or wrong to do the wrong thing for the right reasons?"

Aldebaran gulped, processing the accusation the best he could but- as true as it was- he did not back down, even if he subdued his tone considerably.

"If you really are Hades," -of which there was now no doubt in his mind- "don't talk to me about killing being wrong. How many have died during the wars you've caused through the ages? Wasn't I dead just a while ago, because of you?"

Shun's expression changed then. He stepped back and nodded grimly, as if he'd suddenly regained his senses.

"I have walked that path for too long," he whispered, obviously to himself. "I have killed and brought suffering to innocent people, and I knew it was an aberration. No more. I will not let your so called goddess drag me into her world, ever again."

The Taurus saint, of course, didn't quite understand these words but, before he had time to ask about them or try to decipher them himself, Aphrodite spoke.

"Does that mean,..." he began in the way only he could, alluring and repulsive all at once. "that you won't kill us, or torture us?"

There was hope in his tone and, for once, Aldebaran thought he agreed with him on the words and sentiment. Shun shook his head, looking uninterested now.

"I will not be the one to choose you fortunes. That is up to you."

Aphrodite laughed.

"Then I choose to live and not be tortured, of course!"

Again he had to agree, though he would have probably said the same with a little more tact. Shun sighed detachedly and the Taurus saint detected a hint of annoyance on his face.

"It's not that simple. You have three options: you can stay loyal to Athena, be loyal to me, or step aside from the war and never again take part. Now," he paused, going back to the intimidating, powerful stance. "Whatever you choose will have consequences and you cannot, ever, change your mind; no matter what befalls you."

A heavy silence fell upon them, as the gravity of the situation became clear to those who had to make a decision. The boy had given them options, yes, but he hadn't mentioned what those options would carry with them. It was a test, Aldebaran realized. Aphrodite moved to answer first, but Death Mask yanked the Pisces saint by the arm and shut him up with a single glare. He looked at Shun long and hard for what it seemed like forever before finally answering.

"We can't go back to Athena now, and you know it. Besides," He smirked, giving Aldebaran a sideway glance, "I've never liked fighting for the losers. So I guess..." He took a deep breath. "I guess we'll step aside."

Both Aphrodite and himself were surprised with that statement. He would have bet money on Death Mask choosing betrayal. Shun, however, showed no reaction to it and simply turned to look at him.

"And you?" he asked, sounding almost hopeful. "What will you do?"

The Taurus saint also took a moment to reply. Not that there was any real doubt in his mind as to what his answer would be, but he did find tempting the idea of stepping aside. Maybe he could go back to Rodorio, find that pretty girl he liked so much and settle down, start a family and forget all about wars for good. It was a nice, wistful thought, but it wasn't realistic. Besides, he guessed death couldn't be so terrible the second time around.

"I choose Athena, Shun, and you should too," he said at last.

Shun nodded.

"Very well, it's settled, then. You two," he said to Cancer and Pisces, "get out of here before I change my mind. If I see you wearing armor again, if I hear your fighting for 'anyone', the gift I've given you will go away faster than you can say 'coward'. Is that clear?" Without nothing more than a nervous nod, the two rushed out the door. "You, however," His green eyes fell on him, full of compassion, and Aldebaran knew he was about to get it. "You will stay here until this is all over."

He did a double-take.

"What?"

"You are now my prisoner," Shun said, smiling. "Don't get me wrong; I do not fear you and I wouldn't mind sending you back to her, if that's what you truly want. But I can see you are a good man; you mean good, and that has to count for something. I will not risk you loosing your life again, because I might not be able to do anything about it then."

The boy turned to leave. Aldebaran, shocked and confused, could only stare after him. Had he missed something? Was there more to that whole ordeal than he'd first thought. It sure seemed like it. He figured he'd have a lot of time to try and understand it now.

* * *

The wait had become unbearable by then, in spite of her best efforts. Pandora had known- call it female intuition, call it habit- that Hades would take a while so she'd tried to make the best of it by showing Ikki around. It had also given her a chance to study him more closely, so she thought the time well spent. But the castle was only so big and Hades was taking particularly long this time.

They had ended up in the study, her favorite place in the whole castle, and her refuge whenever she needed comfort. It didn't hurt that the room, aside from being outstandingly beautiful, had a big enough fireplace to keep them both warm in what was turning out to be a rather chilly night. She had really hoped the pleasant environment would help her drown her own impatience. She, however, hadn't counted on Ikki being even more anxious than she, or on just how 'expressive' he would be about it.

The young man had spent an hour or so just pacing around and grunting like a caged wild thing. She could understand him, of course, even empathize with him; he hardly knew a thing about what was going on with his brother and he was worried. It was endearing, really, now that she knew for certain that he loved Hades deeply. But did he have to be so... so loud about it?

"Please, Ikki," she said in a mildly exasperated tone. "It'll do you no good to make a dent on the floor, you know?" Ikki's response was, naturally, a grunt, and Pandora rolled her eyes. "Will you sit down already?"

Ikki stopped walking, stared at her for a long moment and then, throwing his arms up in the air, started his angry march again.

"Where is that wretched kid, anyway?" he exclaimed.

Taking a deep breath to steady herself and avoid snapping at him- which would have been as gratifying as unfair- she stood up and caught the young man by the arm with the intention to reason with him. He hissed, surprised, and spun around. She let go of his arm as if it burn and, eyes wide, took a step back.

"Don't you ever sneak up on me again!" he shouted, half angry, half mortified.

He surely would have struck her- she saw it; the instinctive reaction of his arm lifting- had he not caught himself in time. She immediately knew she couldn't blame him, though. His eyes, that were filling with shame rather fast, had showed her the truth. It hadn't been fear or irrational violence the motor of his actions. It had been a reflex, caused by a lifetime of having to watch his back at all times. The worst part was that she knew it had started way before he even started to train to become a saint; she'd seen that look in his eyes before, hadn't she? Thirteen years before, to be precise. In that moment, she couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to startle you."

He sighed, slumping his shoulders and suddenly seeming a lot older than he really was.

"No, I'm sorry. I overreacted." He ran a hand through his hair tiredly. "I'm just a little edgy today. It wasn't your fault."

"I understand," Pandora smiled kindly and motioned him to sit down, skillfully using his guilt to have her way. He did sit, albeit reluctantly, and she sat in front of him. "These are trying times. But we mustn't loose our heads. We have to stay calm."

"Calm?" Ikki shook his head. "How am I supposed to stay calm? My own brother has turned into an enemy to everything we've ever fought for and I just went along with it, but he can't even take the time to come here and ease my mind a little, assure me he's OK."

The tone of reproach in his voice threw her off balance. She had never heard anyone questioning Hades' actions in such a blatant way. But his words did not sound like defiance; they were still full of love, and it confused her.

"Do you regret your choice then?" she asked, honestly curious and not one bit judgmental. She would accept whatever answer, since he had already proved her that he wouldn't betray them. He huffed.

"Of course not. What other choice was there for me? It's what I do, what I'm here for. I abandoned him once; if I abandon him now..." his voice broke. "Then, everything else would have been in vane. I..."

Pandora swallowed hard. She knew those words were the result of much pain and sacrifice. One of the first things that had come to her mind while she studied him was that he had lost a lot; people, things, his innocence. It was written all over his face, that loss, and she knew enough about loss to recognize it immediately. Now she wondered how much had that young man given up for the sake of his brother's safety. It was probably unfair that he now found himself in that situation- misinformed, alone, forced to turn his back on everything he believed in, on his friends. Would there be no rest for him? For any of them? For how much longer did they have to suffer? Acting on impulse, she reached for his hands and held them in hers.

"You've made the right choice," she said passionately, "Believe me. I know it might not look like it right now but, if your intentions are good, there is no other way to go. Your brother loves you. trust me, he will not do anything to hurt you."

His eyes locked with hers for a moment; she thought she could see hope in them, and something else. Gratitude. It touched her to the very core. It disconcerted her, the feeling, his eyes and how expressive they were. She saw herself in them. They were the same, weren't they? Pandora felt her chest contracting painfully, not used to such state of closeness and silent understanding.

The door opened then, interrupting what could have easily turned into an awkward moment, and a guard came in. Pandora stood up, stepped away from Ikki rather abruptly, and faced the newcomer.

"My lady," he said, bowing. "Lord Hades requests yours and his brother's presence in the dining room."

The girl limited her response to a curt nod and they both, Ikki and her, followed the guard without uttering a word the rest of the way.

* * *

Aphrodite waited until they were outside the castle and away from any potential eavesdroppers to open his mouth. The recent events had left him somewhat shaken. Some second class specter had just forced them to leave their cloths behind before crossing the gates and that had put him in a particularly foul mood. He wasn't willing to take another step without Death Mask's explanation for such an irrational, rash and inconsiderate choice. He stood firm, chin high, in the middle of the stairs.

"Why the hell did you do that for? We could have joined forces with him!" he demanded angrily, and rather loudly too. Death Mask stopped his descent and turned to give him a smug smile, which he found to be very inappropriate. "You know as well as I do he has the winning hand! Who knows how much he would have given us once he won!" The last did come out a little high-pitched and whiny. Death Mask snorted.

"Are you stupid all on your own or do you get help?" he said, his words dripping sarcasm. The Pisces saint raised an eyebrow, as the color rose to his face.

"I beg your pardon?" he snarled.

The other rolled his eyes and he had to try very hard not to kill him on the spot, just because he wanted to hear what he had to say for himself before chopping him up into tiny little pieces.

"You did realize he was testing us, didn't you?" Cancer said, exasperated. "Didn't you hear what he said about consequences? If we'd chosen him, he would have killed us!"

Aphrodite blinked in confusion.

"Why would he do that? That doesn't make any sense! He could put us to good use, for sure!"

"I know his type," Death Mask proclaimed in a 'know-it-all' fashion. "He wouldn't mind sending the world to its ruin, but he still has some misconceived notion of honor and loyalty. We are always going to be Athena's saints in his eyes; offering him our services would be nothing but treason in his eyes. He would have sent us back to hell, trust me."

It did make a little sense, after all. Hades 'had' treated them like disloyal scum from the moment he'd seen them. Besides, if what he'd said held any truth, Hades was still also Shun, the very same guy that had killed him in the first place; they sure weren't in the best of terms. He wasn't quite sure of what had Cancer seen that he hadn't to realize the best way to go; the annoying man had probably saved his butt that day, so he might not kill him after all. Still, there was one thing that needed to be discussed.

"OK, you win," he relented. "But what are we supposed to do now?"

The other man looked honestly surprised at that.

"Man, that is a very good question!" Death Mask frowned and seemed to consider it. After a moment or two, he snapped his fingers. "The world is probably about to literally go to hell, right?" He grinned, Aphrodite nodded. "I say we get pissed and find us some nice girls to keep us busy till the end comes."

The Pisces saint mood lightened; he smiled brightly.

"All the fun and no hangover!" he cheered, then frowned reflectively. "You get a girl, I'll find proper company for myself."

Death Mask patted his back encouragingly.

"That's the spirit!" They both started climbing down once more. "Let's go out with style, my friend."

_**TBC**_

_**(1) Remember, Aldebaran still thinks that Poseidon is locked in that jar.**_


	19. Ch18 Timeless Clock

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN**

**THE TICKING OF A TIMELESS CLOCK**

_It had started as a quiet, peaceful day, the way all days started when she was around. It was also a gorgeous day, with the bluest of skies and just the right combination of heat and wind to bring up the sweetest of aromas. Hades couldn't help but to wonder if his mood was in some way affecting his environment, and couldn't help wishing it was actually Persephone's. Only a few dark, distant clouds rose a little above the horizon but, distracted by bliss as he was, he failed to see them for the omen that they really were._

_He just couldn't imagine, not while watching her sleep so soundly in his arms, that anything could ever again go wrong. Life had been so generous with him, so kind, putting that glorious creature in his path. Just that afternoon they had made love again, something that had become a habit of sorts, yet never ceased to amaze him. Why, being his life as good as it was at that time, would he distrust the future and think it had something bad in store for him?_

_He had forgot, of course, who he was, where they came from. A mere few years of blessings couldn't erase a life-long curse; especially with a life as long as his. It had started as a quiet, peaceful day, but Hades would later remember it as the day his own personal hell started to take form; literally._

* * *

Camus sighed deeply after Milo finished his account. He had known he wouldn't like what his friend had to say, that it wasn't something everyone could hear, so he'd led him to the Leo temple, where he knew they'd have the privacy they needed. They Aquarius saint had listened carefully to the other man's fantastic tale, making a great effort not to loose his composure and keep an open mind, which proved to be harder than expected. Now it was his turn to say something. Milo was staring fixedly at his hands, every muscle of is body tensed, waiting for either damnation or absolution, and Camus was the one to decide which it would be.

He hadn't really changed his mind after hearing the whole story. The notion that the goddess could be some sort of evil and horrendous demon was not only preposterous, it was also offensive. But he could now see how Milo would believe it. He would have probably been as confused as his friend was, had he been in his place. That's where he came in. His role wasn't to judge Milo, or try to convince him that what he'd seen was a lie. He'd seen it in his friend's eyes; he might have been misguided, but he truly believed it. If he were to contradict or antagonize him, Milo would simply push him away. His job now was to guide him, help him search for the source of that so-called 'revelation', and later leave him to draw his own conclusions. He was certain said source wouldn't stand a thorough examination, and all would be well.

Taking pity on his poor friend, who was still crouched against a cold marble wall, looking the worse for wear, Camus slid over to his side and poked him on the shoulder lightly. Milo lifted his eyes, hopeful, and the Aquarius saint offered him a lopsided smile.

"This is quite a mess we're in, isn't it?" he said softly, squeezing the other's shoulder slightly. "Me, a supposed traitor, you a confessed detractor. What a pair, huh?"

The Scorpio saint let out a sigh of obvious relief.

"This went much better than I'd thought it would." He sounded calmer, more collected than he'd sounded all night.

"How come?" he asked, curious.

"Well," He shrugged his shoulders sheepishly. "You don't hate me."

Camus shook his head and mockingly scolded the other with his eyes.

"You underestimate me, my friend." Then, staring straight into his friend's eyes and said seriously: "I don't think I could 'ever' hate you."

Milo blinked a few times and then cleared his throat, squirming uncomfortably until he, not-so-subtly, moved away from Camus.

"Ah... yeah," He laughed nervously. "Sure. I... care about you,... too," His eyes darted around the room like crazy and Camus frowned at the strange behavior. Finally, the Scorpio saint punched him on the arm in a very 'macho' way. "Buddy," he finished.

Remembering what Milo had said Mu thought about them, he burst out laughing.

"Oh, man! I wasn't coming on to you!"

Milo took a moment to look confused, then smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"I'm sorry... you know." A moment later, though, he sobered up and frowned. "What do you think we should do? We cannot just side with Hades; he could be as bad as her, for all we know. We cannot keep on fighting for her, though. Should we just leave?"

Camus took a deep breath. He had to play his cards right.

"I suggest," he began in a careful tone, "that we go back to see the Oracle. I have a question or two that need answering."

Milo opened his eyes as big as saucers.

"No way! I'm so not going back there!" He waved his hands frantically. "You have no idea what it's like!"

Camus **did** have an idea. Milo was not so easily scared and, boy, he **was** scared of it. He stood up and held up a hand for his friend to take. As afraid as he might have been, if that was his only objection, he wouldn't take no for an answer. By the look on Milo's face, though, he already knew that.

"We have to do it. We can't rely on a few disconnected visions to plan our course of action, and you know that very well."

The Scorpio saint huffed, but took the offered hand anyway. Camus helped him up.

"If I go nuts," he barked, "It'll be your fault."

Camus smirked and winked at him.

"I won't let anything bad happen to you, I promise. Now, come on." He gestured for the other to go ahead. "Lead the way."

Milo eyed him suspiciously, then grunted:

"Check my ass once, frog, and you're dead."

Camus laughed wholeheartedly.

"I've seen your ass," he said between chuckles, "You're not my type."

Milo was glaring hard at him but he couldn't stop laughing. He'd never let that one die; never.

* * *

_The clearing was never in absolute silence, although it seemed that way at times. There was always the sounds of animals running around or the wind ruffling the tree leaves every once in a while. A variety of insects and birds seemed to always be singing in perfect harmony. That was it, thought Hades; with all that noise constantly around them, the clearing still gave the impression of quiet because every one of those sounds was attuned with the other. They were part of a whole._

_Hades' head snapped up when he perceived a strange, obviously alien sound. It hadn't been more than the shuffle of dry leaves, yet it had been out of tune, sending all other sounds into a disorganized cacophony. A few birds flew away, startled, and even Persephone stirred in her sleep, letting out a moan of discomfort. Something wasn't right. They were no longer alone._

_He pulled Persephone closer, as if his arms could really protect her of whatever danger was approaching them. While deep in his heart he sensed it, while he knew there was only one thing that could bring such fear in him from a far, he was still surprised to see his younger brother's figure walking up to them. Now he wanted to wake Persephone up and run; recoiling, hiding, just wouldn't be enough. But it was too late; Zeus had seen them and, if the smug smile on his face was any indication, most likely their encounter wasn't at all accidental. Running would be futile. _

_If Zeus wanted to find you, he did. He always did._

_With Persephone pressed tight against his chest and suddenly painfully aware of their nakedness, he tried to cover her body with his own. He just sat there, paralyzed, awaiting a sentence he'd managed to escape for way too long. _

* * *

Another hour had passed. Another flame begun wasting away on the ancient clock. Lives were bound to that sentence of time, futures were endangered by it. Yet those involved and affected by this inevitability weren't able to appreciate what was going on under their very noses. They were too wrapped up in their own 'here and now' to see just how significant the turn of the hour would prove to be.

So was the case for Saga, Shura and Shaka. The first two were set on a mission they didn't fully understand, willing to suppress their own conscience and do whatever it took them to succeed, while the latter was ignoring everything outside his self-imposed misery. Saga's concerns, in particular, centered around his notion of them being short of time. He had expected the Virgo temple to present a problem, and that had been back when he was one out of three. Somewhere along the line, they'd lost Camus and, with no time to spare to search for him, they'd been forced to face one of the strongest gold saints- if not THE strongest- with one man less.

He'd predicted they'd lose quite a bit of time there, and he'd been right. In an outstanding display of power, Shaka had turn his temple into a dark, death-wrecking and terrifying labyrinth the moment they'd set foot in it. Of course, the idea that the blond had done that to stop them never crossed his mind. Shaka wasn't a fool; there was no way he'd tried to hold him- of all people- with an illusion, as good as it might have been. It had been a warning, a means to let them know what they were getting into.

The maze had also stalled them enough for Saga to really start worrying. It had taken them quite a while, but eventually they had found the Virgo saint, waiting for them behind two large wooden doors that led to a garden so beautiful the Gemini saint had a hard time trusting his senses when they told him it wasn't another illusion. Without exchanging a single word, the three had started fighting, which had suited Saga just fine. It was better to go straight to business and not stop to think that this was a good man and faithful soldier they were attacking.

They fought, bravely and skillfully, but they got nowhere. Shaka was their superior, there was no doubt about it. At that precise moment, both him and Shura were getting better acquainted with the garden's lawn, after the blond had submitted them to another round of ass-kicking. Saga wasn't sure if even Camus' presence would have made a difference. Yet they were still alive and Saga was starting to wonder.

If he had to be honest, he'd been defeated long ago, but for some reason, Shaka refused to finish them off. He would hurt them, crash them, humiliated them, and then give them enough time to recuperate and get up again. For a moment, the Gemini saint considered the possibility that Shaka was only taunting them to force them to fight to the fullest, to give their best, as they knew they weren't. He knew they were subconsciously holding back, not that it would have change things if they hadn't. He discarded that idea right away, though. The Virgo saint wasn't just prolonging the inevitable, he was also unusually quiet. There was non of his characteristic petulance. By the grim and somber expression on his face, one would have thought it was he who was losing the battle.

Saga pushed himself up with two tired and lacerated arms and sat limply, not willing or able to throw another blow until he understood what was happening. Shura, for his part, who was struggling to stand a few feet in front of him, still seemed to have some strength in him, though he looked as worn out and beat up as Saga felt. The Gemini saint turned to look at Shaka then, just to confirm his suspicions about the blonde's state. Their opponent was sitting, legs crossed over each other, in between two tall trees. He looked as if he'd been meditating all day, just as he'd looked all the other times he'd waited for them to recompose. His cosmo shined, pure and bright, and there wasn't a scratch on him. They hadn't even ruffled his hair!

What a contrast he was to Shura, now walking towards the blond, his fists clenched and jaw firmly set. Every step cost him a visible effort and lacked any semblance of grace. Shaka stood up to meet him as well. It was then that Saga saw something that caught him off guard and at the same time cleared the mystery of Shaka's strange behavior. Shaka winced. As he was getting up, the muscles of Shaka's face contracted in pain. It wasn't more than a second but Saga saw it. That had been all, a wince, but now the Gemini saint could 'see' the Virgo saint. They 'had' hurt him, much more than they had thought possible. He could now see the strain in his every movement; the blonde's skin was paler than usual, covered with the thinnest layer of perspiration, and his cosmo, that he'd thought was so bright, was only that way because it was moments away from exploding into nothing. Shaka was dying.

Shura could not see it, for the Gemini saint was certain he wouldn't be so determined to continue if he had. Saga himself hesitated. As if in slow motion Saga saw Shura's right hand extend to mimic a sword and rise over his opponent's head. He opened his mouth as if to stop his companion. There was no honor in winning like this. Why would Shaka want to die was beyond him, but there was no other way, he realized, for him to have got to that state rather than willingly. They had been used. The words never left his mouth, though, and he closed his eyes painfully as Shura's hand fell down. They had lost their honor long ago. It wasn't for it they were fighting, but for something much more important. Shaka's death would serve their purpose, no matter who was the killer.

A thought struck him then, the moment the Capricorn saint struck and Shaka's cosmo reached his peak. The Virgo saint might have had a death wish. Even at that moment, while still breathing and standing before Shura, Shaka was already dead. But, if anything, the blond man was proud. He was powerful enough to have others kill him without them even noticing. Saga opened back his eyes, wide this time in a mixture of realization, surprise and fear. They had only lasted this long because Shaka wanted his own death, not defeat. He would never go down beaten.

It was too late. He reached for Shura with his arms, trying to take him down with him, look for cover before it happened, He managed to seize the other by the arm but they were already surrounded by a blinding, blazing light by the time they hit the ground.

* * *

_For the longest time, Hades' gray eyes remained locked with his brother's blue ones. Zeus said nothing, studying him curiously, as if he hadn't anticipated that reunion. Hades could see right through the charade, though, and all he could think about was how on earth he'd been so careless, how hadn't he imagined this could, would, happen. Finally, letting out a soft, almost sympathetic smile, his brother spoke._

_"Hades, Hades, who would have thought?"_

_There was mockery in his tone, though very well concealed, and Hades gulped down, voicing his reply with only a thread of voice and sounding very much like a scared child._

_"Thought what?"_

_"Everyone knows, you know?" Zeus continued, as if he hadn't said anything. "Demeter, Hestia, Ares... They all told me you two were up to something, asking me to do something about it. I, of course, didn't want to believe it. After all," his smile turned dark, denoting just how much pleasure he was getting out of the situation. "You have always been the good one among us, right? Incest it's just not something Hades gets involved in, am I right?"_

_Hades closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to come up with something, an explanation, at the same time he tried to come to terms with what he'd just heard, and what that would mean for them both. Nothing came out at first; his mind was a blur and he unconsciously tightened his hold on Persephone, causing her to stir in her sleep. He startled; the last thing he wanted was for her to wake up. He looked pleadingly at his brother._

_"Please... I know how this looks, but..."_

_"Tsk, tsk," Zeus waved a finger at him. "You don't have to explain it to me. I mean, look at her," his blue eyes devoured his own daughter's form hungrily, making Hades' stomach turn. Was that the way he looked, while gazing at her? "I'm actually sorry you got to her first. But we have a problem. Her mother, you see... She's not so pleased with her little girl disappearing from days at a time, without telling her where she's going. As I said, she knows enough to be suspicious, but she doesn't have any proof. If I were to tell her, perhaps, that she has nothing to fear, I'm sure she would get off your backs."_

_A terrible coldness gripped at his heart and he lowered his eyes to contemplate Persephone's sleeping face. He could say that it meant nothing, tell Zeus to take her with him and promise to never see her again. He could, even, keep that promise, were he to make it. It would be for the best, he realized. He would go back to his life before her; loneliness was something he had learned to endure, and she would go back to her mother, where she would be safe and guarded from the other's scorn. Demeter might have been as bad as the lot of them, but she did care about her daughter enough to keep her from harm. Both would be free from Zeus's claws, as it was obvious where his brother was going. But the idea of never seeing her again, of going back to that life he might have been used to, but nonetheless despised, left him feeling empty. With a sigh of resignation, Hades closed his eyes and asked, knowing full well what the answer would be:_

_"What do you want?"_

* * *

All eyes turned to him when he entered the dining room, as he had expected they would. The heavy silence drowning the great hall was welcomed, as well as the steadfast attention. It would make things easier. He took his place at the head of the table and slowly let his gaze run through each of his guests. To his right sat Ikki, who was staring at him intently, a look of absolute reproach and outrage plastered on his face. Shun smiled mildly, amused at the lack of real anger on his brother's eyes, and turned to look at Julian, stationed to his left. His older brother smiled politely and nodded in acknowledgment. To Julian's left sat Sorrento, who looked fairly uncomfortable, staring at his plate as if it held the answers to the mysteries of the universe. In front of Sorrento was Pandora, who looked as calm and mild as usual, trying her best to hide her anxiety, visible only by the way she rubbed her hands together methodically. Furthest to him, and looking a bit like the odd one out, sat Radamanthys; he too looked distressed but, as he realized by the way he winced when one of the servants placed his food in front of him, Hades was sure his discomfort had more to do with that ridiculously preconceived notion he had of being his inferior, rather than anything else.

He had no intention of prolonging their suffering any more than necessary, but he felt he should wait until the last of the servants left the room before starting to speak. It was clear that no one would say anything before that. Even to him, it seemed like an eternity before the door shut and they were finally alone; he could imagine what it was like for the others, who had no idea about why they were there. Hades took a deep breath to steady himself and smiled again. He would not waste time with pleasantries.

"As soon as we're done with dinner," he stated calmly, "We'll head off to the gates to wait for Athena and her soldiers. The war will start." He gave everyone a moment to let his words sink in. They didn't look all that surprised, but he caught a look of regret or two. "I feel it's only fair that, since I've given three of Athena's saints the choice to whether they would face this or not, I do the same with you."

All of them, except for Sorrento, made as if to say something, obviously to reassure him, some more adamantly than others. Radamanthys and Ikki actually stood up, looking affronted. He held up a hand to stop them, letting out a small laugh. He wouldn't deny it felt good, to see the unyielding loyalty they showed him. It scared him, to know it might very well not last through his next words.

"A choice can only be made if one knows the full length of the options. Some of you," his eyes rested on Julian, "know more about this than others. If you're going to follow me through this, the least I can do is let you know what I truly am, and my intentions." There was a look of general confusion to this, but he paid it no attention. "First of all, and in spite of what some of you may argue," his eyes focused pointedly on Radamanthys, then Pandora. "I am not, nor have ever been, good." And, predictably, both his general and the older girl- as well as Julian and Ikki- made as if to protest the declaration. He gave them no time to interrupt, though. He wasn't fishing for compliments, just stating the truth. "I used to believe I was good, yes, but it just isn't in my nature to be. I was meant for evil from the start."

"That's not true," said Julian, with something akin to weariness in his voice. "You 'are' good. You're…"

"A demon," he interrupted sharply, causing half the party to gasp. "My body might be human, but my soul comes from the darkest of lineages; straight out of hell, and you would do well to remember that, brother."

Julian didn't argue, probably because he knew there wasn't much of an argument to make, and stared down at his plate, looking indecisive between shame and frustration. Hades noticed that Radamanthys, too, seemed to feel bothered by his words. The other three looked aghast; Pandora and Ikki stared at him, wide-eyed, while Sorrento alternated his stare between him and Poseidon, mouth agape.

He doubted for a moment, whether or not to explain. A part of him wanted to make excuses, to erase that look of horror from his Nii-san's face. There were excuses, already made by others like him before, who sounded more than plausible; the lot of them had been using them so much, for so long, that some of them actually believed them. But he decided against it. He would continue talking, as if he hadn't just revealed what he was. The truth wasn't to be tampered with, or sugarcoated to some to better suit him. If he wanted to avoid questions, though, he needed to start talking soon; he could already see the idea of what he'd just said taking form behind Ikki's eyes.

"I intend this to be the last of the Sacred wars. I want to put a stop to what my family and I have been doing for thousands of years. We will all be judged, not by me, but properly this time, permanently, and the world will be released from our hold. Humanity will be free at last, to make their own mistakes, to grow on their own terms… to find solace in death." The last was said in nothing but a whisper. "But I don't know how that judgment will affect those who stood by us, by me. You will surely get a chance to start a new, a real life, after tonight, if you just step aside. Some of us are doomed, no matter what, but you, Pandora, Sorrento… Nii-san," His voice broke. "You're innocent; nothing more than pawns. The outcome will be no different if you're not here. You're not needed."

He wanted to say more, explain more, but his knees gave up on him. He fell on his chair like a rag doll, head in hands, trembling. The weight of what he was, for some reason, still hurt him. Those blissful years where he hadn't thought himself beyond redemption were still heavy on his memory. But the fact that, even being as evil and rotten as he had proven to be, he was still capable of love, and that had always hurt the most. Hopefully, this had been the right decision. Pushing his loved ones away was something he should have done from the start. It would have saved him a lot of suffering. It was wrenching, though; he could hardly breathe at the thought of what the others must have been thinking of him at the moment.

"If what you say is true," came Ikki's voice, dark and deep. Hades braced himself for what he knew would follow. "Then we will be judged for standing next to the people we love. For being loyal and doing the right thing; not for whom we chose to follow."

Shun didn't look up in surprise, though surprise was an accurate way of describing his feelings. He choked back a sob, instead, and buried his face deeper into his arms. He had hoped beyond hope no one would take that approach on things, because he just didn't have the strength to say no, to fight it. He would always be selfish like that. Any ounce of nobility he might have possessed had worn off with that speech. If they chose to stay, he would not prevent it.

"We might be useless for the upcoming battle," this was Pandora, her voice trembling with contained emotion as she said it. "But you do need us. Now, I suggest we enjoy dinner, since it might very well be our last."

He did look up then, trying his best to smile. It was true. If they were going to stay and risk the eternal damnation of their souls, he could at least try to give them one last, peaceful night. Sorrento, he noted, was still there as well, but every muscle of his body had tensed up and his face was unreadable. Julian kept glancing at him from the corner of his eye, looking utterly miserable. Ikki and Pandora both looked pale and resigned, like two people confronted with something way too big for them to understand. Furthest from him, and looking like the odd one out, sat Radamanthys, looking downcast, defeated and alone. It would be tougher, he concluded, to have them enjoy themselves than to end a millennia of demonic imprisonment.

_**TBC**_


	20. Ch19 End&Beginning

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN**

**THE END OF THE BEGINNING**

_The darkness of this world was oppressive. The sun was nothing but a distant memory here, and so was happiness. Day, after day, after day, Persephone saw countless souls enter these realms, torn with despair, hoping that they would find their well-earned rest in the after-life, only to have those hopes crushed in the cruelest of ways. "Abandon all hope," read the gates, "All who enter here". There weren't truer words in any spoken language. And day, after day, after day, she wondered why he, who was so much more compassionate than her, would have willingly taken the throne of this forsaken hell, destination of only the innocent, while those who deserved it lived leisurely their unnaturally long lives. _

_She could see how this place was affecting him, too. He hardly ever smiled anymore and his eyes, while still full of love when he looked at her, were always heavy with guilt and self-disgust. It was slowly eating away his soul, but he stayed, never uttering a word of protest. Her own life was much more bearable than his. She was shielded from the morbid spectacle Hell had to give; Hades barely let her leave her rooms, which were as luxurious and grand as her old ones had been. All her belongings and servants had been sent to her without a word of explanation. He had never told her why they had abandoned their haven to come here, but she knew enough. The fact that neither her mother, nor Zeus had come after her, the fact that she hadn't needed to come back, nor been allowed to, spoke volumes. He had traded her for the throne of the Underworld._

_When realization of this truth had hit her, she had been outraged. Feeling that she had been treated as nothing more than an object for the negotiation, she had voiced her anger at him, called him every name she could think of and condemned him as being just the same, if not worse, than their family. It had broken him, more than that place would ever break him, and she immediately saw her mistake. That man, who had fell on his knees, beaten as she spoke, was still the man she loved. He didn't make excuses for himself, he practically admitted to every insult and accusation, but he was still the Hades she loved. And, though he said nothing of the sort, that day she knew, beyond any doubt, that he had accepted doing the one thing he'd feared the most because of her. _

_So she'd stayed. Unbeknownst to him, she had sneaked out every single day to see with her own eyes what was destroying him. She didn't want to be protected from something that was her fault. If he was to suffer because of her, she would share that pain with him. _

Lune knew, deep inside, that he had fallen.

Guarded in his palace, he was safe from the judgment that had befallen others like him in the past, but that did not erase his sins. Back when the earth was free and the Father was there to guide him, he had remained faithful. It hadn't been easy, even back then. The company of Humans had never been the best for Angels. Jealousy was a powerful feeling, even when you had the truth in front of you, and many an angel had joined the Fallen One just because of that. But Lune had managed at first. He had accepted his would-be siblings, he had even come to understand why the Creator devoted so much attention to them.

He, along side many of his kin, had been watching over the virtual newborns, learning to care about them, to see their suffering and realize that they might have been graced by God in a way themselves never would, but that their lives were not to be envied.

After they, Humans, turned on God, after they accepted the rule of those ungrateful, loathing creatures, condemning themselves and causing the Father, his Father, a pain he could only start to imagine, Lune could no longer pity them. He was trapped, however. He had failed to keep those he had been sent to protect safe and now he found himself unable to return home, to protect anyone and, to top things off, unable to come near anyone, for fear of betrayal. He could trust no one. Even the weakest of humans could have seen he was different and let the now owners of the world know of his presence, and looking for other Angels was way too dangerous.

For how long he had remained hidden in the shadows, alone and forgotten, he could not tell. But hate had nestled in his heart. When he found Hades, when he joined Radamanthys' ranks and found himself at last in the company of others like him, he sworn them loyalty. However, unlike the rest of the stranded Angels that had seen hope in the Lord of the Underworld, Lune had seen him as a means to an end. He would get revenge. He would make Demons and Humans pay for what they'd done to the Father. The sole idea of the pain they had caused him brought tears to his eyes, yes, but it also made him crave for the blood of those traitors. And, in the Palace of Justice, Lune had found the perfect place to ease his anger.

Many times he told himself that he was fair and just. Some part of him hoped that if he judged them fairly, the Father would see that scum for what they were and He would stop loving them so much, would stop hurting. But the truth was that he wasn't any more just than a boy who wants to be the light of his father's eyes and sees his siblings shine in them instead, when said siblings don't even care about their progenitor. Deep inside, he knew this. But he had lost hope a long time ago, he did not wait to see Heaven again, so he didn't care anymore.

Now, though, Lune felt something in the air, a sort of expectant calm that had never been there before. He could see this time was different somehow, and he wondered if Hades, that half-breed he had pledge allegiance to only for convenience, that half-breed he had come to even respect, was actually what they had said he was: salvation. That would be an interesting turn of events. That, indeed, would be most inconvenient. Lune had no plans of ending up in hell any time soon, and that was exactly what he knew would happen if he were to stand trial. Lying to himself would not change facts. If Hades was indeed to finally free earth from the Fallen's hold, he would be doomed.

Now, he wasn't about to betray his lord; not after so long in his service. But he was sure hoping everything turned out the way it was supposed to. With Hades losing again.

The peaceful silence of the hall was interrupted by barely perceptible footsteps, and Lune was shaken from his musings. It was one of them, he realized right away. It was one of 'hers'. A mixture of bitterness and fright enveloped him. He'd always enjoyed taking care of that scum, but Hades had prohibited him to do so. He wouldn't mind so much, if sending them back meant Athena would regain some of her strength, it would at least ease his mind. But Aiacos had mentioned Hades kept the last one locked away. On the other hand, this was the second gold saint to pass in the same amount of hours and that meant that, in spite his wishes, Hades just might still have a chance to win this one.

He rose from his throne and set his face in the stoniest expression he could muster. It was petty, he knew it, but if he could rouse the smallest of concerns from the saint, it would almost make up for the fact that he had to let him go.

"Your name?" he all but barked, opening his book of records and giving the man a disdainful glance. This one was a lot different from the last, smaller, more delicate, lithe where the other had been blunt.

"Shaka," he answered in the pleasantest of tones. There was none of the pride and defiance the Taurus saint had shown.

Looking at the blond man's records, Lune could tell right away his differences to the first saint did not only reside in his appearance. This man had been deadly, had been cold and had had little to no regard for any other human being. He had dared call himself a man of god, he had dared pass judgment on others. And last, but not least…

He almost jumps in joy.

"You weren't killed by Hades' soldiers, were you?"

The saint looked straight at him then, with eyes so soft and earnest Lune doubted for a moment this was the same man depicted in his book. Half a smile playing at his lips, he shook his head.

"No, I was not. I killed myself."

The lime haired judge felt a shiver of excitement run down his spine. Deep down inside, he knew he was relying on a technicality, that Hades had ordered for all of Athena's saints to be sent back, and not just those killed in battle. Lune knew there would probably hell to pay for his defiance if he chose to ignore that. But Lune had chosen a long time ago, and he had chosen denial and self-indulgence over conscience.

He would have fun with this one. He would take care of him himself, for as long as it amused him.

Kanon fell to his knees, licking the coppery blood from his lips, trying in vain to prevent it from tricking down his chin. Shaka's body lay before his eyes, pale and peaceful, oddly beautiful. He couldn't bring himself to turn, finding a tight pressure on his chest that was more than just residue from the overbearing blow he'd just received. It had been a blow meant to kill, both the attacker and the target, and Kanon could not bear the idea of it having been completely successful. He could only stay there, crumpled and in pain, holding his breath until he heard something from behind him, something that indicated he hadn't failed utterly.

The rustle of the grass as one, then two people came to, and Kanon could breathe again. Why did he care? He figured it didn't matter. He had nearly lost his own life saving him, and another one who couldn't have meant less to him, but he cared. Kanon smiled, then snickered. He cared, and it felt fucking wonderful. Yet his laughter soon turned into something else, something deeper, and the taste of his own blood mixed with the salt from tears he hadn't realized he was shedding.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder and Kanon looked up, making no attempt to guise the fact that he was crying, almost sobbing now, to find Saga frowning down at him. He'd long since stopped caring about keeping up pretenses, about his 'reputation'. Kanon couldn't give a shit about how it looked, he just pulled his brother down violently and clung to him like the world was ending. Which, by the way, was probably the case. Saga grunted, stiff in his arms. The bastard couldn't just hug back, could he? Kanon let him go, snorting.

"You're welcome, prick."

The Gemini saint said nothing, didn't ease the frown, but his eyes had softened a bit. Well, it was a start.

"What the hell?" came Shura's voice from behind them. He was about to bark a reply, self-consciously assuming the Capricorn's saint surprise was directed at him, but a soft hiss and a mild glow from his left stopped him in time.

Shaka's body had begun fizzing, every molecule dispersing and shining with eerie effervescence. Then it exploded into thousands of tiny petals, showering all around them. What the hell, indeed.

Before they had time to question this new development, the sound of running footsteps caught their attention. Kanon stood up without hesitation. He had a lot of explaining to do if he wanted to get ALL of them alive to Athena's chamber, especially with a dead Shaka on their wake.

Athena heaved a long sigh and turned her eyes away from the stars, that had been her only company up to that point. The explosion at the Virgo temple had not gone unnoticed by her, and the knot on her throat had only tightened when three cherry blossom petals had found their way to her shaking palm. Maybe her memories hadn't returned fully, though that was hard to believe at this stage, but she sure didn't remember it hurting so much.

She'd cared for Shaka. Under all that coldness, she had seen a good man who was just confused. A good talk, some good advice, and she could have helped him be a little less detached from the world. Her saint had been lonely beyond belief, but she had put the battle above everything else, and he had made a good weapon, detached as he was. Now he was dead, and she wondered.

She sensed Shion and Dohko long before they finally made their presences known. Dagger at the ready, she let them speak. She remembered her cloth, then, and what needed to be done to retrieve it. For once, it was her blood that needed to be shed, and she was glad. She told them both to wait there, to take care of the others once they got there, and how to get to Hades. She placed the dagger against her wrist and dug as deep as she could. It was only a shadow, a joke next to what her saints had to endure, but she would do her part and, perhaps, take matters into her own hands once the big battle, the one that counted, started. If Shun was to die, then let it be by her hand, for she would not dream of asking any of his friends, his brothers, to do it.

They had found him in the last place of the entire Universe where anyone would have looked for salvation. He had been so reluctant to believe the stories they told about this half-breed. He had been so skeptical. But his men had believed and he had kept his reservations. Hope was never a bad thing and, if this wasn't to be, there could always be something else to keep them going. Finding him in that place should have been enough to justify his skepticism. It was the closest to the real hell Radamanthys had ever been to, and He was ruling it. Yet one look at him, at his eyes, and Radamanthys was on his knees, pledging his allegiance. In between all that despair and suffering, the Angel who had been away from Heaven for so long, finally saw himself going home.

That memory had eluded him for centuries, but it had been so very present in his mind ever since that small, green-haired boy had looked at him in the eye. For how long had he given up on the idea of hope? Things had changed so much, He had changed so much. Radamanthys had been there to see it, to see every bit of pain the Damned had caused on his Lord, and how they had killed any chance they might have had of escape. Now he stared at his half-eaten meal, listening to the others talk amiably, purposely ignoring the present for the sake of companionship. He could not take another bite, and was having enough trouble keeping down what he had already eaten. Hades' words a few minutes before were playing over and over in his mind. He had called himself a demon. He had clearly implied that He, Poseidon and Radamanthys were condemned already. He had also spoken of a lasting judgment. Radamanthys knew, he had been talking of what they all had been waiting for since the day they swore to follow Hades to hell and accompany him there.

The time had come and Radamanthys wasn't sure he was ready for it. If he had to admit it to himself, he was afraid of that lasting judgment. He had not only lost faith, he had not only hidden when he should have fought; he had forgot. He could not account for the atrocities he was responsible for. In his loyalty to Hades, he had done the unspeakable. Instead of refusing to follow orders that he knew were brought on by pain and madness, he had wanted revenge on the damage he had seen done to one so pure. He had been functional to the Damned. Maybe, just maybe, his refusal would have been enough for Hades to keep the light that had made Radamanthys follow him in the first place. Hell, he could have at least tried to comfort his Lord, show him just how much he meant to him, that he still had people who loved him. Instead, he let his Lord's pain turn into bitterness, then hate. He was not only responsible for the things he had done in Hades' name, he might very well be responsible for Hades' damnation, as well. And his men, too, to whom he never led to anything other than violence. Lune's and Aiacos' lack of mercy towards humans, Minos blood lust, Papillion's cruelty, they were all his doing. For how many souls was he responsible? He wasn't sure he wanted to see the Father again, see the disappointment in his gaze, see the hurt he surely caused him.

An affectionate squeeze to his shoulder pulled him out of his musings. He hadn't realized the others were starting to leave the dinner table. The dreaded moment had finally arrived and he had spent his last moments brooding. Just great.

He lifted his weary eyes to meet the owner of the hand still resting on his shoulder. Hades was looking down at him, his eyes once again mirrors to that beautiful soul. There was hardly any madness left anymore, though the scars were still there. The boy smiled at him sadly, as if he were able to read his thoughts.

"Are you coming, then?" he asked softly.

Of course he would. Radamanthys nodded and got up slowly, joining what looked like a procession of dead men walking. Of course he would follow Hades through this one as well. He would see the Creator again, face the consequences of his actions and know, without a hint of regret, that it had been him who had helped give Him back the world that was righteously his. That knowledge alone would be enough to endure any punishment he might deserve. He might be condemned but, at last, he had faith.

_**TBC**_


	21. Ch20 Past&Future

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER TWENTY  
**

**OUR PAST FUTURE**

_Row after row, soul after soul. Hades watched them march before him after trial. There were so many of them, so many of them had been there before he arrived. The setback about having a godless world, he found out soon enough, was that the world would remain forever unchanged. On his first years of ruling the Underworld, Hades had marveled at the enormous amount of human souls that entered his realm, and wondered how he'd manage to keep them. He sent back the good ones, the virtuous, hoping to do a bit of good in that hell that was his. But soon enough he realized the births were more than the deaths and his siblings' wars were just not cutting it. He hated it, but every time he had to send one rotten soul back, he wished for another war. In the end, the rotten were more than the virtuous, and he just stopped caring._

_That's when his soul started to sour, because he found himself enjoying the suffering hell brought upon the vile ones. Who was he to judge, anyway? They were evil because they lived in an evil world. While that made the good ones even better, it expiated the rest. Yet he liked it, seeing the pain they had inflicted in life, inflicted back._

_He fought against it, he hated himself even more for failing. He got to see a side of humanity from which even his family had turned away. Back then, though, he'd had a way to cleanse himself from those thoughts. His life hadn't been just revenge and spite. He'd had her to come back to. He did it for her._

_Watching row after row of empty, hopeless faces, Hades couldn't wait to go home._

* * *

Shun hugged himself tightly, fighting the tremors of his body thanks to the biting cold night air, amongst other things. The six of them stood at the gates. Any attempt at conversation had died out the moment they crossed the threshold and the heavy silence made the wait even more unbearable. Athena was taking too long, and he didn't like it.

He was not looking forward to the confrontation, but leaving his mind without distraction, his thoughts to his own devices, was not advisable. He couldn't help wondering, at such a decisive time, what his life would have been like had he been just Shun, just another kid growing up on the streets of Tokyo. Would he have had a home? Would his parents still live? Would he be in school, agonizing over tests and crushes? His mind took him to the people he loved, people he wouldn't have come to know if he'd been just a kid, but that he wished he'd had a chance to love properly. He craved for more time with his brother… with both his brothers and his would-be sister. He craved to fight with them about petty things and going to them for advice, to fool around and laugh. He wanted to turn around, throw caution out the window and tell them he liked someone, that he couldn't stop thinking about a certain blond boy that made him feel his heart was not totally crushed beyond repair. It wasn't true. Hyoga was not the only thing he thought about, and he'd never claim to love anyone in that manner, ever again. He wished, though, he could have had a chance to tell him, before he had to fight him. Would the Cygnus saint look at him with disgust when they met? Hades couldn't allow himself to care, but he did.

He shivered again, his teeth teetering. A pair of strong arms wrapped around him from behind then, and he leaned into the embrace.

"Cold?" Ikki asked softly. Shun nodded but said nothing. He tightened the embrace and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. "You look better, less…"

"Crazy?" Shun supplied with a chuckle. "I feel better, now that I know everything's going to end." Ikki tensed behind him and the green haired man sighed sadly. "You should know by now, that I'm not going to be here in the morning." He half expected his brother to argue, but he remained quiet. Feeling a knot tightening around his throat, Shun turned around, never leaving the safety of Ikki's arms, and found his brother's eyes filled with unshed tears. Never before he'd seen Ikki show that much emotion and it threatened to make him cry as well. Shun took his face in his shaking hands. "Whether I win or lose, I'll die tonight, do you understand? And I don't want you to…"

His words were cut short when Ikki crushed him against his chest, silent but trembling, hugging him so tight Shun thought he'd asphyxiate right there. Still he said nothing. Ikki knew by now, Shun realized, and he knew there was no stopping him. This was his brother saying goodbye. And Shun, Hades, cried.

* * *

He didn't realize at the time. Intent on finding out what had tormented his friend so much, Camus had stepped into the Oracle without a second thought. He hadn't felt anything familiar about the overbearing energy it emanated. Now, seized by panic as he'd never known it before, he clawed at his own throat, willing it to work and let some air into his burning lungs. The fabric of the very Universe had tightened around his neck. It was so small, so restricted, and it smelled, it reeked, of something he knew all too well. He was back in hell.

His eyes were bulging out of his skull. He, try as he might, couldn't close them. He was powerless against the raw foulness that showed itself shamelessly before him. Melting, rotting flesh, fire and ice colder than any of his powers could convey, screams, everywhere, all confined and concentrated. Extremes that pounded against their shackles but could do nothing to break what was holding them.

His vision shifted. There was a door, an exit, to that hell, but even the unbearable pressure of the universe it contained wasn't enough to make it even rattle. Heavy, dark chains wrapped around it. Several hung loose, useless on the fetid ground, their links torn brutally. There were three still intact, though, tense, steel humming with every gush of wind. They enveloped the door tightly, and each was tied to a pillar that prevented it from bursting open. The door itself perspired blood, thick and viscous, that trailed down the chains and bathed the pillars. Upon a closer look, Camus noticed those pillars were shaped as humans, covered in layers and layers of dried blood. The Aquarius saint realized then, that it was not the door bathing the pillars with blood, but the pillars' blood that trailed up the chains and door. He also realized those pillars were shaped as people he knew, and the one in the center, the one conveying more power over the door, taunted him with its long hair and deceivingly kind face.

He stretched one of his arms desperately. He knew, with a certainty that scared him, that if he were to break those chains, that hell would be vanished. But he was rooted to his spot. No matter the effort that he put into it, his hands could not reach them. Athena's statue seemed to smirk at his efforts, mocking him, while the other two stood passively, resignedly, at her sides. Tears trickled down his face. It was so close, he was so close.

Something took hold of his hand, a firm grip that pulled him towards the gate at such speed that it made his head swirl. Camus screamed, finally able to close his eyes against a certain death, but the blow he was expecting never came. Instead, strong arms wrapped around him and he was pulled against a familiar, trembling body. Milo was shaking. The moisture on his face was his, but the humidity on his neck, where the Scorpio saint had buried his head, was something else.

"I told you, asshole, I told you." Milo supplied shakily.

Camus had to admit it. He had been warned. He clung to his friend, shaken to the core by what he'd just seen. He could have doubted his friend's judgment, could have even doubted his sanity or loyalty, but Camus could not be so obtuse as to ignore his own eyes, since he had actually been in hell long enough to recognize it, and what he'd seen could be nothing but the truth. It shook the foundations of his entire life, but not of his own ethics. Right and wrong were still defined the same in his mind, he had just realized he'd been wrong in where he put the labels.

"Milo," he whispered, squeezing his friend a bit tighter before pulling away. He was not shocked to see his tear-streaked face, nor ashamed by the tears marking his own. "You were right. And we cannot just sit here and do nothing. We have to stop her, or die trying. I'm technically dead, anyway, but you…"

Milo shook his head with determination.

"You're not leaving me behind again," he whispered fiercely, yet avoiding his gaze.

A little surprised, and touched by his friend's declaration, Camus nodded and smiled warmly. He stood up, pulling his friend up with him. He understood why people would get the wrong idea about them. It was just by a whim of fate that they weren't lovers, really. Fate and Milo's utter straightness. The two of them shared a bond deeper than anyone he knew, loved each other fiercely, and were devoted to the other. It was just by chance they expressed such strong connection through friendship, but he did not regret it. And never mind what the Scorpio saint had to say, if he needed to die for him, he'd do it a hundred times, as he knew Milo would for him without hesitation.

* * *

_Persephone walked the halls of the castle with a hurried step. Not only did she need to reach their chambers before Hades returned, she also hated those halls. They frightened her, made her feel as if someone was constantly breathing down her neck. They were unusually quiet that day, and her footsteps resonated against the stone walls, adding to the frightening atmosphere. She clutched her hands into fists against her chest and all but broke into a run when the seemingly endless halls finally won over her reason._

_Panting, she dashed into their rooms, leaning against the closed door that kept the invisible stalkers away. It was just a wooden gate, yet being on the other side of it, inside the room that Hades and her called home, made a world of a difference. That day, however, some of the fear and foreboding managed to walk in with her, and she gripped the doorknob tightly, willing herself to calm down.._

_"Look at the scared little rabbit," came a voice from behind her, causing her to gasp and turn sharply to meet the intruder. "One would think you don't like it here."_

_Her knees nearly gave in against her weight at the all too familiar sight of her cousin._

_"Hermes," she breathed, wondering if she should just get out and get help. Why was he there? How had he got in? A million more questions ran through her mind, none which would have an answer that would please her, she was sure, and none which she dare give voice. The man shamelessly eyed her from head to toe, smiling lewdly._

_"I see life as a queen has been treating you well. Your mother would love to see you like this." Hermes locked eyes with her then, his smile turning vicious. His gaze alone threatened to make her knees give out on her. "No, really. She would **love** to see you."_

* * *

Shion heard the steps approaching Athena's chambers and bolted up from his spot next to Dohko, who held the Goddess' still form, now clad in her cloth, close to him. He tensed up, staring at the door intently and forcing himself not to blink. Mu was with them and, while he was relieved his would-be son was still counted amongst the living, he dreaded the state he would be in, or the reaction he'd have to his presence. Their last meeting had been less than happy, and he wondered if Mu would be able to understand. While he doubted the young man would attempt to fight him, or anything, Shion feared finding disappointment or coldness in his eyes.

He heard Dohko chuckling and he straightened even more, feeling a bit self-conscious. He turned to look at his friend for a second before turning his gaze back to the door. It was enough to catch a glimpse of the Libra saint's amused expression, though.

"What's so funny?" he asked defensively.

"You are. And obvious, too."

He just grunted a response, knowing the other man was probably right. He just couldn't shake off the unease the loudening steps caused. The first one to rush in was the Pegasus saint. For what Shion had seen and heard of the young man, he was not surprised. He immediately ran to the unconscious Goddess' side, well before any of his comrades got there. Neither was Shion surprised about the anger and mistrust shown in his eyes given that he didn't know him and Dohko looked pretty much a stranger now.

"Saori-san!" he cried, looking angry beyond belief.

He stopped a mere feet from Dohko, posing himself to fight, but didn't dare move any closer. Dohko remained impassive. The Pegasus saint seemed about to say something, not very politely either, when Dohko's kid caught up to them and, with him, the rest of them. Shion was torn between staring at his child, who was standing at the back of the group with a blank expression on his face, or focusing on the tense situation at hand. Thankfully, and to avoid any further misunderstanding, Shiryu addressed the Libra saint first.

"Roshi," he begun, placing a hand to Seiya's shoulder to placate him. "What happened to Athena?" The Pegasus Saint's expression changed to confusion.

Dohko stared at the still body of the girl fondly.

"She'll be ok, but we don't have much time. We need to get to Star Hill."

It was kind of sad, Shion thought, as all of them regrouped and started to move without doubt or question and with the efficiency only soldiers could muster. The time for individuality had passed and all of heir fears and problems, their affections, would have to be put aside to see the battle through. There was no more Saga, Kanon or Shura; no more Seiya, Shaina or Shiryu, Mu or Aioria, only the well-oiled machine Athena's army was. He locked eyes with Mu for a moment, glad to find his gaze not to be at all unfriendly, but rather questioning. He hoped there would be time later, to set things straight, to apologize. With that final thought, Shion cleared his mind of anything other than leading his men to whatever fate had in store for them.

* * *

_"My lord!"_

_Several running footsteps broke into the silence of the throne room, as Aiacos and a few of his men ran in. Hades sat straighter, alarmed by the worry on his general's face, immediately trying to imagine what could have brought him such distress. His followers, pure angels that didn't cease to amaze him with their loyalty to one such as him, were not prone to dramatics. The underworld was a forsaken place, however, rarely struck by the atrocities the outside world encountered, such as attacks and invasions. No one wanted to conquer his barren realm, therefore his men rarely had anything to worry themselves with._

_"Aiacos, what is it?" he supplied in his kindest tone, and left the throne to stand eye to eye with his general. The man, in turn, fell to his knees, looking intently at the floor._

_"My lord, I'm so sorry, I should have… we should have…"_

_The show of submission threw him off balance. While he knew angels were hierarchic creatures, his attempts at gaining his men's trust had paid off and they rarely regarded themselves as his servants anymore. Now worried himself, he knelt in front of Aiacos, both his hands resting on the shaken man's shoulders._

_"For God's sake, man, what is it?"_

_No sooner the words had left his mouth, Minos and Radamanthys walked in, their march much harder and angry, dragging a beaten up Charon with them. They pushed the man forward, and the ferryman landed limply a few feet from him, unmoving, while the two of them stood to attention, rigid, stern. Still, he noticed they wouldn't meet his eyes either._

_"My lord, this… this traitor…" Radamanthys begun, his deep voice wavering. "Word got to us that he had helped Hermes cross the river, sir. We found him in his quarters, pockets full of gold, and ready to flee."_

_Hades stood up, a grave expression on his features, as his heart filled with dread. Hermes had always been too close for comfort, but having him cross over could not mean anything good._

_"Is he still here? Did you find him?"_

_"He's already left, my lord." It was Minos turn to speak, and he sounded as distraught as the other two. "The traitor had already helped him to the other bank when we heard."_

_A nervous laugh escaped his lips then, and his eyes traveled uncertainly from one general to the next._

_"Well, then. That settles it, doesn't it? We will just make sure this man doesn't betray us again."_

_Aiacos, who seemed to be the most affected by the ordeal, let out a strangled whimper, while Minos and Radamanthys, much to his shock and distress, also fell to their knees, along with anyone else present._

_"My lord…" Radamanthys all but cried. Hades started to get angry, because anger didn't leave room to thinking about what their reactions could actually mean. The general must have seen this, because he shrunk further into the unnatural reverence. However, it also seemed to help the blond regain his ability of speech. "The queen, my lord… they saw her get into the ferry with Hermes on his way back."_

_And Hades wished now the man had remained silent._

* * *

They hadn't even made it to the Capricorn house when Marin saw the gleam coming from Star Hill, and knew they were too late. Seika was no match for a saint, and they had been delayed a lot trying to cross through the ruins of the Virgo house. Marin stopped running abruptly, angry at herself for not having done something earlier. The girl at her side panted helplessly, obviously thankful they'd stopped, completely unaware that she had probably just lost the chance to see her brother ever again. Mindful of their differences, Marin felt akin to that powerless, clueless girl. She regretted her failure for both Seiya's and her sakes. Seiya was like the brother she'd lost and, in returning him to this girl's side, she had hoped to ease her own feelings of loss a little, since there was no hope for her own reunion.

"Are we there yet?" the girl asked hopefully, holding onto Marin's arm for support.

Marin stared down at her in silence, wondering about what to do now. She didn't know; Seika had no idea of what she could be about to lose, and Marin wondered if she should leave it like that. She could very well return this girl to her house, make up some excuse and never speak of it again unless Seiya returned, and Seika would have no idea.

She considered that option through and through, for long enough that the girl had already regained her composure and was starting to look at her funny. In the end, she decided she'd done enough lying and deceiving to last her a life time. Seika deserved to know, even if it would only cause her pain in the end. She had a right to wait for her brother, to mourn him should it come to it. Marin would have liked to have had a chance to do that herself.

She led the girl to take a seat on one of the steps, and she did so obediently.

"Seika," she said solemnly, knowing the girl would hate her when she finished her account. "How much do you remember?."

* * *

_She should have known this time would come. Hades had told her Zeus had wanted him to run the Underworld from the start, because he wanted him to be a part of their little tyrannical rule out of some kind of fraternal notion. But Persephone had lived amongst them the longest, and she knew nothing was ever that simple with the Olympians. She'd suspected, all along, that Zeus had wanted Hades in there to break him. Such a kind, pure soul could not remain unmarred on such an unholy place._

_She also knew the hold Demeter had on her, and she could not believe her mother would have let her go so willingly. She, after all, had provided an endless source of amusement to her. She was her personal little doll. But, if their intention was to break Hades, what best than to give her to him in exchange for the Throne of Hell, only to take her away when he could not turn back on his duties?_

_Persephone had once accused Hades of using her as a bargaining chip. Now she realised she'd been used, not by him, but his mother and uncle, as a pawn to destroy the man she loved._

_But Hermes had been clear. Either she came with him, or Demeter would unleash her fury over the world, and blame Hades for it. It wouldn't have been enough to make her leave Hades' side, not anymore. She had grown weary of humanity during her stay as Queen of the Underworld. Somehow, the well-being of humans did not bother her that much anymore. But, though she had seen the same weariness in her husband's eyes, she knew that deep down he loathed bringing them pain, and being responsible for the damage Demeter could do would be too much for his already troubled mind._

_Clutching her fist tight inside her bag, she let Hermes guide her to the gates, waiting for the right time to use what she was holding. Both Hades and her were still alive and no damage would come to either of them if she complied. But she could make sure, against her mother's plans, that she would come back to him._

_Promenade, straight out of Elysium's gardens. Just a handful of seeds ingested before crossing the gates, and she would be forced to return, bound to the underworld forever, lest her life slip away. Surely Demeter wouldn't let her die. She was too important to her._

* * *

Hyoga's heart sped up considerably when the castle appeared before them. The heavy mist made it almost impossible to see anything, and the rocky cliffs were making the ascent quite difficult, but as much as the Cygnus saint wished for the moment to never get there, they were just a few yards away from their destination.

He'd tried his best to appear inconspicuous to the others, not to betray himself by looking too somber or in thought. The others were too wrapped up in their goal to notice, probably, but he couldn't risk it. He hadn't said a word to anyone since his conversation with Seiya, but there hadn't been much talking going on, anyway. He hadn't felt or shown the slightest bit of worry when they found their goddess unconscious, but the others had been too preoccupied with her to see it. He had noticed, though, how he felt nothing when he thought Athena could be dead; nothing except a strange sort of hope that Shun… that Hades had won and was still alive.

He had had a lot of time to think about it, to reconsider, but his determination only grew with each moment that passed. He had also had time to think about what would happen once he made his intentions clear to the rest. He might need to fight his friends, as much as it would hurt him, but he figured Shun might be feeling the same. Shun would have to face the same dilemma, and he would be right beside him when the time came.

There was also the chance Shun wouldn't want him. While he was almost certain Hades and the Andromeda saint were one and the same, he didn't know Hades, and had no way of knowing how Shun had changed since they'd last seen each other. If he claimed allegiance to him and then was refused, he would be an enemy to both sides. Not to mention Shun was most likely evil now. His changing sides didn't make him any less aware of what was right and what wasn't and he feared what would be required of him, what would befall everyone should Hades win.

These thoughts troubled him, but did not deter him from his plans. No matter what, he'd make sure Shun saw another day. Evil or not, it was still Shun. Somewhere inside him there had to be something of the kind boy he loved, and he could at least try to find him again.

The path evened out and the castles gates were more than clear now. The bridge had been lowered to receive them. Hyoga walked one of the last in line, trying to hide himself from the welcoming party that stood by the doors. His eyes landed on the young boy at the lead, dressed entirely in black, that took a step forward to meet them, and his breath hitched. His first thought was how much he'd grown, how much more beautiful he looked, before noticing the darkness that surrounded his aura, the assertiveness of his manner and the sternness of his gaze. He doubted then, whether there was anything of Shun left.

Hades saw him, and Hyoga thought his eyes lingered a bit longer than necessary on him, but maybe it was his mind playing tricks. The boy stopped at a safe distance from Dohko, who still held the goddess, and smirked.

"Old dogs really can't learn new tricks," he said mockingly, looking at Athena with more disdain than he'd ever seen on that usually caring face. "These little games won't be necessary, though. I welcome you to my realm with open arms."

Hades opened his arms to demonstrate, and the ground shook when he did. Both Athena's saints and Hades' party looked around in fear as the earth groaned and rattled under them, as the stone creaked into a gap in front of the green eyed boy. Once the endless pit had opened fully, the earthquake stopped. Hades turned to look at Ikki, who stood stoically at his right, and then to a blond warrior to his left. Both of them nodded and jumped into the hole, followed by the rest of them. Hades was last. He rewarded Athena with one last spiteful glare before addressing them.

"See you on the other side."

And he was gone.

_**TBC**_


	22. Ch21 Winter&Summer

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER TWENTY ONE**

**BLOOMING WINTER, WITHERING SUMMER **

_Winter grew longer, the earth more sour and the weather harsher, but he waited, with every change of the season, for the boat that would bring her to his arms again. He pleaded, negotiated and threatened, he searched and asked and did everything in his power to bring her back. His questions and pleas were never answered, his search was always barren, his threats empty, because he had nothing, to bargain with, to win. He'd lost it all. And his will slowly died, as his soul, as he watched the murky river that would never again bring his heart back to shore._

* * *

The fall seemed to never end. The endless pit swallowed them whole and for an eternity he feared he'd never reach the bottom. But he did, they did, like two ragged dolls they hit the ground and landed on a mind-numbing darkness. He stood, achy and sore, but surprisingly in one piece, and tried to overcome the primal fear that showed him he was still a simple human being, under the darkened gold of his armor

"Is this it?" came Milo's shaky voice from beside him, gripping Camus' arm like a blind man. Which he was, in a way, since there was nothing, absolutely nothing in sight except themselves. "Is this Hell?

"I… am not sure." He should know, shouldn't he? He had been there just twelve hours before. The air smelled as stale and dead as Hell did, but he couldn't say he knew this place, this nothing. Camus looked around in vain. There had to be something there, somewhere to go from where they stood. He took a hesitant step forward, straining his eyes, but saw nothing. Milo was shaking beside him, and he placed a hand on top of his friend's to placate him. "It must be," he said, in a more reassuring tone, if only to get Milo's fear to quell. "Long as I've been down here, I haven't had a chance to tour around the place," he finished with a small, calm laugh.

There was some truth to his words. There were plenty of places in the Underworld that he hadn't a chance to see, for which he was mostly grateful. But there was no place in the Underworld he didn't _**know, **_either from tales or his own studies, and he could certainly not remember a place such as this. He figured- hoped- it was because it was a faraway, insignificant corner of Hell that did not even deserve mentioning. He was amused that both found reassurance in thinking they were actually in Hell, though. Certainty would always beat the unknown, it seemed, even if it was the certainty of torment

With steady, yet still careful steps, Camus started to make way through the darkness, Milo always a step behind him, never loosening the grip on his arm.

* * *

Shaka had never known pain like this. His was body convulsing in spite of all of his attempts to suffer it with dignity and acceptance. His own skin felt like it was being torn apart in tiny shreds, his insides burned, every breath he took made it all worse, yet he desperately needed the air. And through it all, while he lay a pathetic heap on the floor, with no scar or mark to indicate his body would ever deteriorate, his tormentor watched him impassively. The only witness to his defeat,… no, to his surrender, watched him as one would a bug, with nothing more that detached interest.

The interest was there nonetheless. The lilac haired man would simply not tear his piercing gaze away from him, though Shaka was pretty sure he did not do that with everyone. And while those eerie eyes made him feel insignificant and worthless, they also provided a weird sort of distraction, awoke a curiosity in him that didn't let him fully give in to what was to be his eternal torment. Apparently, Lune noticed that.

"There's no point in fighting it, you know?" he said, spite dripping from his tone, and gave Shaka a swift kick to his ribs, that still refused to break. "The sooner you give up on your false hopes, the sooner you'll accept this is your existence now."

It took a lot of him to shake his head in something other than a convulsive spasm, and even more to smirk, yet he managed, and by God, it hurt. "I…c-can't do it if…. you're looking," he rasped out, his voice barely distinguishable from a whimper. "Why … are you?"

Lune's eyes widened a bit, but the judge regained his composure almost at once. Through the blur of his vision, Shaka did see his lips curl into a smile, though.

"You, my friend, are the last. My last guilty pleasure," he said in a voice so cold it felt like sharp needles digging into his already battered body. "We shall burn in hell soon enough, you and me, all of us. I'm just enjoying this while it lasts." Shaka had to frown in confusion at this, and it didn't go unnoticed by Lune, or maybe he'd planned on explaining from the start. His mind was too boggled to tell. "You think this is hell? You think that pain and suffering of this kind would be atonement enough for your sins, or mine? No, Virgo Shaka, Hell is nothing like this."

Maybe his curiosity- and his dread, though he wouldn't admit it- were growing stronger, or maybe Lune was losing his concentration on him, but Shaka felt his pain subsiding just enough that he could somewhat lift himself from the ground, into an awkward crawling position.

"H-How? What are you… saying?"

"There's no fire in hell, no one poking you with tridents, no other physical pain than that which you might cause yourself in your own desperation," Lune knelt in front of him. His face was a mask of pure glee and satisfaction, but his eyes, his eyes were pained and desperate, and guilty. "Imagine being in front of the most gorgeous of heavens; imagine… having happiness, pure and whole, just right there, within your grasp. Everything that you've ever needed, even those things you didn't think you wanted, everything there for you to take. And then imagine knowing, with absolute certainty, just how filthy you are, how rotten. Imagine knowing that if you touched those things, you'd taint them beyond repair or recognition. Everything is there, and you don't dare step into paradise, because you know, without a doubt, you would never belong there. And you'd also know it was your fault, that Heaven was yours by right, and you chose to deny yourself that bliss. Just imagine that."

The thought was a little hard to grasp at first, especially with a foggy mind. But Shaka wasn't stupid. He knew what was coming, for him as well as Lune. It was Hell.

"I… am sorry," he said, in a ridiculous bout of empathy.

* * *

Seika was tired, exhausted, sitting on the rubble that used to be a glorious temple, and staring at her companion in pained confusion. Part of her wanted to be angry at Marin's confession. She'd been violated, her mind tampered with, for the sake of this greater good she had never heard of before. But all there was, was a deep, incomprehensible grief.

She did not know, nor remembered, this younger brother Marin had told her about. She'd always known she was missing something, so she couldn't say she had been surprised to find out. She was surprised, however, at how much pain it brought her. How can you mourn someone you don't remember?

"But… there's _**some **_hope, right?" she said, pleaded, to the young woman seating, deflated, next to her, so much like herself, yet so different. "He's… won all these other battles. You said it, he's very strong. I bet he'll survive." A hopeful smile tugged at her lips as she spoke.

"I guess we can hope," said the warrior girl, and Seika could hear a bit of a smile in her voice, behind that silver mask that still didn't manage to conceal her soul.

Of course he'd survive. The chances of him dying were probably very slim, if he was the warrior Marin had said he was. He needed to survive. He'd been looking for her, he wanted to be her brother. He just couldn't die before Seika even had a chance to know if she wanted to know him too.

"Seiya, huh? Yeah, he'll be back. You'll see."

* * *

_Demeter was stubborn. True to her kin, she had the truth in front of her, but she did not let it deter her from her decision. Persephone would not go back. Hades would bend to their will or break, and she was very much inclined to see the latter rather than the former. Never mind that she did have, somewhere inside her rotten black heart, some sort of love for her daughter. Never mind that she could not remain totally impassive to her once beautiful daughter slowly wasting away. _

_Persephone, destroyer of light. Her role had been crucial, and she'd played her part perfectly. Hades' soul turned darker and viler with each day she spent away from him. There was nothing sweeter than seeing something so pure become so tainted from the very emotion that had made it pure to begin with. _

_Yet she felt it, too. Love. That sign of weakness that made her look away at her own daughter's thinning frame, her paling skin, her dulled hair. She wasn't stupid, either. She saw it coming, she knew it was going to happen soon. And she had to choose, to either save her daughter's life, or finally seeing Hades destroyed. _

_In the end, the pleasure she got from seeing him suffer was stronger than the pain it caused her to see Persephone die. _

_So she let her die. _

* * *

When she came to, they were already there. When Athena opened her eyes, she realized her plan just wouldn't cut it this time.

Shion helped her stand, lowering her from the protective embrace he'd held her into. She stood, still wobbly on her feet, in front of Shun. He'd grown taller, he'd started to fill in all the right places. But so had her. Still, she couldn't help envying his ethereal beauty, even if for just a second. She had to admit, even she felt slightly humbled in his presence. She had forgotten just how gorgeous Hades was, how appealing and attractive was that tainted light that followed him everywhere. He was even more beautiful after being broken or, at least, that's what she'd always thought.

She saw that they were not at the gates of hell, as it was usual, as it was meant to be. Not even at the gates of Hades' castle on earth. No; he'd led them straight to the gates of Elysium. Much as she was a lover of tradition, she wouldn't have minded in the slightest. It would save her saints climbing countless stairs for the nth time, and she was sure they would appreciate it. But once again, this was only proof that Hades was not following the script this time, that he was up to something. Was he so eager for the final confrontation? Was he bored, and wanted to get his defeat over and done with? Did he think that fighting her saints unmarred, rested and fresh of battles would make it easier for him to win?

His face, though, Shun's face, didn't show any conceit, none of the pride that usually caused his demise. Athena was not surprised to see Ikki there, by Shun's right. She'd known it would be so. She was slightly taken aback to see that Poseidon had chosen to take part in this, and even more surprised that he'd chosen Hades' side. The entire ordeal was turning more and more bizarre and unpredictable. So much so, that for a moment she feared for their victory.

Her saints didn't seem to understand what was happening, and she couldn't blame them. Her eyes found Seiya first; they always did. The boy's confusion lasted a few moments, before his frown turned into a smile and he stepped forward, arms almost outstretched in welcome, before she had a chance to stop him.

"Hey, Shun, Ikki! Where the hell were you, guys? I thought…" His words died in his throat as one of Hades' general's stepped forward, all but ready to strike.

"Radamanthys!" Shun's voice, much deeper and confident than she remembered it to be, reverberated through the marble hall, halting his General mid-blow. Shun's eyes found her, full of hatred and spite, and Athena couldn't say she was unaffected by it. "I'd suggest you tell your men to stand back until we're finished talking. I wouldn't want there to be an _accident_."

"Talking?" she asked calmly, though she told Seiya to back away with a stern gaze. The boy was too confused to protest, and did as he was told. "What's there to talk about, Hades?" She used that name to at least hint at her men of what was going on, since there was no time for explanations. The collective gasp that followed let her know she'd somewhat succeeded.

"I am going to talk," Shun answered coldly. "You are going to listen, and do as you're told if you know what's best for you."

She could do nothing about the smirk that followed. Even if it wasn't wise to mock him, that claim was slightly ridiculous. No matter how much stronger he'd gotten, he still couldn't seriously expect to boss her around like that without some sort of mockery. "Or what?" she asked, disbelief and laughter in her tone. Shun, however, remained unperturbed by this. In fact, he seemed pleased.

Hades opened his mouth to speak, with a calm that made her weary, but before he could explain himself, Hyoga took a step forward, causing Hades' men to become defensive again. Seiya tried to stop him. The blond boy was shaking like a leaf, his eyes downcast, terrified, and didn't seem all there, but he managed to shake Seiya's arm off, leaving the other boy to stare at him in confusion. Athena could only do the same, as he made his way to Hades, who didn't look like he knew what was happening either. Hyoga stopped as close as he could get to him without getting his head chopped off, and knelt before him.

* * *

_He felt it, in his heart, in his soul and his gut, the moment that Persephone died. He felt almost joyous. He had leaped from his throne, shaking the load of melancholy and bitterness that had seized him, faster than anyone had thought possible, and had rushed to the gates of Hell like a child in Christmas. Later, he would remember staring down at a shaking Charon with venomous smugness, a vicious, threatening smile playing at his lips all the way, enjoying every tremor on the man's body, because he was so sure he'd won, so sure they'd be together again. _

_He hadn't wanted to risk anything going wrong. Persephone was now his by right, and no one would stand between them again. Hades didn't bother, couldn't bother, thinking of the circumstances of her death. He was too happy for such thoughts. He would wait for her at the gate, they would be reunited, and all would be well. _

_Time works in a different way in the Underworld, and it always seems to stretch for all eternity when one anxiously awaits for something. But it was much too soon when Hades started realizing that she was taking too long. He stood there, under the archway, until his legs gave up. Then he sat, the hope in his face not quite fading, though dark thoughts were starting to plague him again. There was no way, it just wasn't possible, that Zeus or anyone in Olympus would be able to prevent her from getting there. It just wasn't the way things worked._

_Then, why wasn't she there ?_

_His men came and went, cautiously trying to convince him to go back, returning to Elysium with grim and worried faces, but no King of the Underworld. And he sat, or paced, or simply stood there waiting, long after hope had died in him. He waited now for any one of his siblings, to come mock him, torture him, so he would know what went wrong, before gouging their eyes out with his bare hands. They didn't come either._

_It was Radamanthys who came one day and, rather than trying to convince him to return, sat next to him in silence. Days, weeks, even months passed, while hatred consumed him, along with confusion, and his General kept him company through it all._

_"We'll make them pay," Hades whispered finally, after the endless vigil, and realized he'd forgotten the sound of his own voice. "They will all pay, and I'll watch with glee as they suffer._

_There was something, a profound sadness in Radamanthys'_ _at his words, but the blond General stood, hand outstretched, and helped him stand with a firm nod._

_"Till the end of time, My Lord," he replied, as a vow, as condolences, Hades wasn't sure. _

* * *

"My Lord," Hyoga breathed, barely above a whisper, every bone in his body shaking with fear. There was plenty to fear, too. Death, for instance; being a brave soldier did not mean you were devoid of a survival instinct, and he was well aware of the risk he was putting himself into. Hades' men were all but friendly, not to mention Hades himself. He had imagined this moment in detail since he'd made his decision, but he hadn't counted on Shun being so... different. Which made him, in turn, fear that Shun was actually gone, and only Hades remained. Which of course would result in his death, so it was fair to say his fear was more or less one and the same. "My Lord," he repeated, a bit more sternly. "I... I've come to pledge myself to you."

_**TBC**_


	23. Ch22 Outside&Box

**THE 'G' IN GOD**

**CHAPTER TWENTY TWO**

**OUTSIDE THE BOX**

The moments Thanatos found himself alone were few and far between. His brother was always by his side, and there had to be seriously pressing matters for them to part. Given the state of things at the moment, he would say Hypnos' absence was more than justified. Nevertheless, that left the Angel of Death feeling incredibly bored. Not that his own task was any less important, just not as... entertaining.

Unlike his siblings, Hades's original body hadn't perished during one of the countless Sacred Wars, but his soul had left his body willingly, and he'd kept it as a sort of symbol of days past. It rested peacefully, as if in a deep slumber, on a high marble altar in the middle of a sort of temple he'd created around it. Thanatos knew it was not a temple to himself, but to Persephone. Safeguarded at a far end of Elysium, the temple kept everything Persephone had ever held dear. At the center, of course, was the body of the man she'd loved, pure and innocent as the day she'd fell in love with him, his expression devoid of all the hatred, bitterness and madness their separation had caused. The walls and ceiling were covered with the finest murals, depicting those pastoral images that their Queen had so loved; there were painted vases and terracotta figurines, assorted trinkets from all over the word, delicately placed on shelves, as well as open chests overflowing with the finest jewelery, that made Thanatos recall how much class his Lady had had, since their irrefutable quality did not even come close to ostentatiousness. It was all so... human, so mundane, and all the more loving and beautiful for it.

There were only three items missing. One was the pendant, a token of Hades' love for her, and the one thing he always kept with him, the one reason everyone who loved him still hoped his heart wasn't completely dead. The second was Hades' sword, who was meant to rest by the gates of the temple until Hades awoke. It's absence always meant the start of another war, it's presence the vow to avenge his lover till the end of time.

Last, but not least, was the chest. It had always been there; the only chest meant to forever remain sealed and locked, for nothing but Hades' blood could open it. No one had a clear idea of what it contained except their Lord, and Thanatos doubted even He knew where it had come from. But, while it in itself was useless, for the millennia that their torture had lasted, it had been clear that it was crucial if they were ever to put an end to it. So, Hypnos, without permission and against all better judgment, had taken it from that sanctuary, in hopes that he would finally see the chance for it to open. Thanatos, for his part, had been left to guard Hades' body. Athena's mongrels were already at the gates of Elysium, and he would not risk any harm to come to it, or anything else in that temple, if only for nostalgia's sake.

He sat at the edge of the marble altar that held Hades' original body, wondering it it would be considered disrespectful to play, as he was, with the silky strands of black hair framing the gorgeous pale face. It had really preserved exactly as the day its soul had left it. He truly looked like a sleeping angel, and Thanatos thought the sight was entrancing. But it was also the past. That temple was nothing but a crypt for a man that thought himself dead already, and as much as Thanatos loved that place, he couldn't wait for it to crumble under the weight of a brighter future. Actually, after so long, any sort of future would do, rather than that fake limbo they were trapped into. He wanted real, even if it meant hell, and he knew that was a distinct possibility.

* * *

No matter that they couldn't see anything past their noses, Milo was starting to get the impression that they were walking in circles. They were definitively not getting anywhere, anyway, and he thought one of them had to say something soon. Why not him? He wasn't very inclined to state the obvious, but if it at least stopped them from walking in vain, so be it.

"Camus... I don't think we're getting anywhere."

They stopped walking then, for what Milo's feet were tremendously grateful, and Camus chuckled a bit.

"I knew you'd get tired first," he said, with mirth in his eyes and voice, and Milo's scowl at this did nothing to change that. "But I'm afraid you're right. Wherever we are, I think this is all there's to it, and I doubt..." Camus' words were cut short as his friend stared into the distance with a surprised expression. It's hard to follow someone's line of vision when there's really nothing there to be seen, but Milo tried, and immediately realized why his friend looked so surprised.

"Well, I'll be dammed," he mumbled, his eyes fixed on a tiny, almost imperceptible beam of light. "Is it just me or..."

"It's light." Camus answered the unfinished question, and no sooner he'd said it, he'd sprinted towards it, with Milo in toe.

For the seemingly endless time they'd been walking, Milo had to admit he was surprised at how fast they reached the source of the light, almost as if it was also rushing to meet them. He also had to admit he was very much disappointed to see it was not an exit they'd been running towards to, but a person. A very... bright person. Woman, to be precise, and very beautiful at that. Her slender figure was unnatural, her frame hinted that she'd once been human, though it was evident she no longer was. Her auburn hair was as bright as everything else in her, and it flowed around her, as if with a life of its own, and her face, dignified but oh, so kind and peaceful. He was sure he'd seen her before, but couldn't quite recall where, since his brain only had room for contemplation of her presence. It wasn't until Camus elbowed him on the gut that he realized he'd been ogling her, and Milo had the decency to look ashamed. She just smiled down at them, and though she looked like an angel, completely ethereal and out of this world, Milo couldn't say he'd ever felt so comfortable in the presence of a stranger, and yet he had the urge to kneel in reverence before her. One look at Camus and he figured his friend was feeling something similar.

"I've been expecting you, my friends," she said, in a voice that sounded like a song. "I wish I'd been able to reach you sooner, I had other matters to attend, and for that I apologize. I hope you weren't too concerned?"

"I... We..." Camus started, and Milo almost smirked. Camus stuttering was not something one saw every day. "Please forgive our ignorance, but I think I can speak for both of us when I say we're very confused."

The woman nodded softly, and just with that simple gesture Milo felt as if she'd explained everything.

"It is by chance I meet you both here," she sang, "But your presence was foreordained. This place..." she waved her hands, motioning around them, and her light seemed to shape and twist the nothingness that surrounded them. "Is the beginning and, hopefully, the end. The prison you've seen in this earth's memories is no longer impenetrable. My death and Zeus' arrogance have cracked it, but it still needs to be broken from within. Our hope lies in my heart. It shall all come to pass, if all goes well, but, would you accept a simple request from someone such as myself?"

Her words made no rational sense to him, but they filled Milo with a hope he hadn't known before. Whatever this creature requested of him, his blood, his life. He would oblige happily. It was Camus, however, who voiced his thoughts.

"My lady," he said, with the same awe and devotion Milo felt. "There's nothing we could deny you."

She approached them, then, and placed one of her impossibly long, thin hands on each their shoulders. The moment she made contact with him, Milo felt like his soul had left his body, and he was now in some sort of heaven. A sigh of pure bliss escaped his lips as she spoke.

"My dear, brave soldiers, I will ask nothing to risk your lives, for they are worth more than any battle you may fight." She pulled away a little bit, and brought her hands together. A small, golden flame burst from within them, and she knelt before them, to place it at their feet. Still on her knees, she smiled up at them. "Guard this hopeful place, guard your own lives, and above all, love each other. That is my request."

She started retreating then, at a slow pace, as the small flame morphed into a warm, inviting hearth. Milo took a few moments to compose himself, and she was almost gone again when he shouted, though his voice sounded like a whisper, "My Lady, your name, please!" with almost despair in his voice.

She barely turned, her smile still in place.

"I have no name, for light cannot be destroyed. Even in the deepest darkness, you will always have its memory, to guide you back to it."

* * *

His feet moved on their own accord, slowly but surely approaching the young man knelt before him. He sensed his own men's unease, saw Ikki outstretch his arm in a vague attempt to hold him back; he distantly heard his former friends' voices, in shock and anger, calling out for Hyoga. But he made his way to to the blond boy anyway, dazedly, surprised, and knelt before him, watching him, taking him in. He looked so young. It was ridiculous, Shun was younger than Hyoga, but he looked like a child now in his eyes. Hades was so much older now, even if his body betrayed that. Hyoga was just a child.

Yet that child made his heart beat faster, rendered him speechless, and caused a wave of profound and warm tenderness to spread through his bitter soul. Just the sight of him was more comforting than anything he'd ever known, and it caused Hades to shiver in fear. Hades had to restrain himself not to reach out a hand to brush the impossibly blond hair, still thin and soft and silky, yet another sign of his short age. His hand made as if to caress it, but stopped midway, and Hades composed himself with a shuddery breath.

But Hyoga saw it and, without even lifting his eyes, seized Hades' wrist in a death grip, causing his men to jump. Startled by the boy's actions, Hades still had the presence of mind to hold his free hand up, to prevent anyone to come closer.

"S-Shun?" stammered the Cygnus saint, still more frightened than hopeful, tightening the hold on his wrist for a moment, almost enough to cause pain. Eyes glued to the floor, Hyoga lifted himself from the floor just enough that he was leveled with Hades, and shaking something awful, he let go of Hades' wrist, taking both of Hades' hands gently in his trembling ones instead. So softly that Hades doubted for a moment if he'd spoken at all, Hyoga asked, "Shun, are you... Is it still you?"

For the first time since this whole ordeal had started, Hades was at a loss about what to do. His plans had changed, sure, and so had his mind, but there had always been something, some course of action designed to guide him through. Now he was lost. Admitting that he was still Shun, that he was in no way possessed, would make Hyoga's determination all the stronger. He knew this, because he wasn't blind to the bond they shared. But that would mean dragging Hyoga into his own perdition, condemning him for all time, and he was already responsible for way too may souls to carry the burden of another one, especially Hyoga's. However, saying otherwise would mean, probably, to lose Hyoga forever, which would have been convenient, but nothing further from his own desires.

"Child," he whispered, is voice so full of affection that it couldn't have been mistaken with patronizing. Hyoga lifted his gaze, frightened and questioning, and Hades met his eyes with a sad smile. "You don't know what you're doing. Turn back before it's too late."

There were tears in Hyoga's beautiful blue eyes now; he wasn't crying, no, but he could see them building there, and could imagine the effort that took to hold them back. It was as if the Cygnus saint had been anticipating his rejection, and it made Hades' heart ache and his resolution shake at its foundations. There was also something else; not quite hope, maybe relief? Was their bond so strong Hyoga could still see him, even after all that had transpired, after how he'd changed?

Maybe it was his own denial playing with his thoughts, or maybe it truly was the sensible course of action, but one look at the people Hyoga had left behind to join him was enough for Hades to make up his mind. Under masks of disbelief and confusion, Seiya, Shyryu, the Gold Saints, were looking down at the Cygnus saint with contempt. They felt betrayed, of course. Hyoga had condemned himself already, whether Hades accepted him or not. With a long sigh, Hades placed a hand under Hyoga's chin, lifting his face, unwittingly caressing his cheek with his thumb. "You wish to join me?"

Hades had gotten used to the way people looked at him, he'd had thousands of years to study it. There were those who looked at him with fear and hatred, but he didn't care about them. It was the others, his loved ones, whose looks always carried a hint of pity, a hint of despair, a hint of fear, a hint of pain, as well as feverish devotion. Of course the emotion that shone brighter in their eyes was love, and it was for that they stood by his side still. But Hyoga... the look that Hyoga gave him at that moment was something Hades had forgotten how to describe. He hadn't seen such a look since _her_.

"Do I have a choice?" Hyoga whispered, without a hint of bitterness, and Hades could see the tiniest of loving smiles play at his lips.

Slowly and tenderly, Hades pulled the young man close into a loose embrace, taking a whiff of his hair, that smelled like snow, and nuzzled the skin of his neck, causing Hyoga to tense up. Hades chuckled low in his throat and pulled away slightly, until he was almost nose to nose with the Cygnus saint. "You're just a child," he cooed tenderly, before brushing his lips with a kiss that was barely there, but that caused his heart to leap to his throat. She'd been just a child, too, hadn't she? So pure, so innocent. For the first time in God knows how many life times, Hades felt happy, and it had to be Athena's voice that cut through his bliss to bring him back to reality.

"I hate to interrupt your little moment," she spat venomously, and when Hades looked at her, he could see a flash of the demon in her, rather than the girl she inhabited. "But either you tell me your grand plan now, or we crush you."

This was said with her hatred-filled eyes glued on Hyoga, and Hades realized what he'd just done. He'd again showed his heart to those monsters, giving them a perfect target to destroy him once again. This time, however, there wasn't much left to destroy. He stood up and gave Radamanthys a silent command with his eyes, to which the General responded by approaching Hyoga, giving the young man an odd look, and escorting him to the back of their improvised formation. The General would know he'd better guard the boy's life with his own so, for the moment, Hades was reassured. His face soon went back to its stony, disgust-filled expression.

"I apologize for wasting your time, considering you have so little of it left."

* * *

Pandora was still shocked, half in surprise, half in dread, by what had just happened between his brother and the young man that was now being lead by Radamanthys to their side. She was surprised because she could not deny the love she saw displayed before her very eyes, and it almost brought her to tears to know Hades' heart still had room for something like that. Of all the present, she was the only one who'd never had a chance to see Hades like that, so peaceful and pure, even if it had only lasted a few instants. If she'd ever doubted that Hades was all everyone told her he was, in that moment she would have been convinced.

But there was also dread, because she could not miss the look of hatred, almost triumph, in Athena's eyes. She wasn't able to look at her for long, so ominous the sight was. Hades had showed a weak point. She needn't be a strategy expert to realize that. By the faces of those around her, she could tell they were all thinking the same thing. Hades himself, however, had either failed to notice his mistake, or was not concerned enough to pay attention to it. She spared a glance to the young blond man, who was pale as a sheet and trembling, and then at Ikki, who was red with fury, for some reason.

"I can't believe he did that," Ikki grumbled, and Pandora nodded in silent agreement, though he didn't seem to notice. Ikki turned his eyes to the blond boy and, if looks could kill, Pandora would have been afraid for the boy's life. Ikki mouthed something undoubtedly rude to the young boy, though the recipient of the barely audible insult was too dazed to see it.

Now, that was not where she'd thought Ikki's anger had been directed at, and when understanding dawned on her, she couldn't help but chuckle, in spite of the seriousness of the situation. Pandora placed one hand on Ikki's arm to catch his attention, and he pierced her with an angry glare that soon softened. "Don't tell me you're jealous," she whispered in a laughing tone, to which Ikki only scowled. She gave him a tender, knowing look, and the older boy looked down, somewhat ashamed, but still seething as far as Pandora could tell.

Distracted and amused as she'd been by the blatant display of brotherly overprotection, she had failed to notice the new comer, that silent as a cat had made his way behind them. It wasn't until she felt the hand rest on her shoulder, making her jump, that she turned and saw Hypnos gazing down at her with that peaceful, entrancing look of his that made his name so befitting. Ikki must have heard the surprise in her gasp, because he immediately turned, ready to strike, and was stopped short the moment Hypnos' eyes met his.

"There's no need for that," soothed the Angel of Sleep, and Ikki's entire body relaxed instantly, even if his face was one of pure confusion. "I just need a word with my friend here." He motioned to her, to what Pandora nodded her head obediently and looked at Ikki,

"I know him, he's one of ours."

Never mind that she didn't really trust either him or his golden haired brother. She knew better than to go against their wishes, and really, if either had even bothered to come out of Elysium it must have been something important. He led her a few ways from the group, Pandora glancing back at Hades at one point, seeing him talk with venom to Athena, who responded in kind, but too far away now to make out the words.

"You know," Hypnos said softly as they walked, and Pandora saw, for the first time in their acquaintance, regret in his beautiful features. "I never really had a chance to apologize to you. It now seems like a good time." She raised an eyebrow, not quite able to pretend she didn't know what he was talking about, but said nothing, so he went on. "We needed Hades to be born in Japan. We needed him to grow up as Athena's servant. I know of fraternal love, and what it... _we_ must have done to you. If it's any consolation to you, the baby boy that was born your blood brother bore Hades' soul. In a way, he _is_ your brother."

They came to a stop, and Pandora could still see the gathering, but her attention was now fully placed on the man before her, her body shaking with emotion at his confession, and the discovery that it _had _been her brother that she'd loved and cared for, after all. Still, a question stuck in her throat for a few moments before she could voice it, her eyes filling with tears she wouldn't shed.

"And my parents? Why take them, too?" She tried to sound polite, respectful, but the bitterness and resentment were too much for her restrain. Hypnos didn't seem upset, but rather contrite.

"We needed you devoted to him," he admitted sorrowfully. "We needed him to be all you had left, so you wouldn't stray. If your family had survived, you would have had them to lean on, and it would have been near impossible for us to keep his conscience there. He needed you." He bowed his head then, expression full of guilt. "We wronged you, but we would do it a hundred times over, if this works, and we have faith it will. Your pain will not be in vain, and every drop of blood shed by _them..., _and by _us,_ will find peace because of your sacrifice."

A lone tear did escape her then, and she nodded curtly. Forgiveness would take her a while, of course, but she had grown knowing of greater purposes, of sacrifices. Hers was nothing in comparison of what she'd seen and heard of. She could bear the weight of it. Clearing her throat, she looked at Hypnos, not hiding her grief this time. He needed to see it if he wanted to forgive himself, she knew it.

"Is that all?"

Hypnos quickly went back to his usual, peaceful and entrancing self, but Pandora did see him under a different light now. He shook his head no, and pulled a little bag hanging from his belt. He opened it, and removed a small wooden chest, hardly big enough to keep a few pairs of earrings.

"You've lived thinking you weren't special, didn't you? That you were just a tool," he cooed, holding the chest out for her to take. "You've done your homework. You'll know when to open this."

Pandora took the chest... the _box, _in her hands with reverence. She'd indeed studied enough to know what it held. She was just surprised at how small it was.

* * *

Seiya was overwhelmed, angry, confused. Three of his best friends, his only family, were apparently now the enemy. The one they all held dearest, was apparently the one and only Lord of the Underworld, and he honestly didn't have a clue as to how he should react. So he did the only thing he could, and stared at Saori for an answer. She would solve everything, right? Was there a way for everything to be solved? The heaviness at the pit of his stomach suggested that there was hardly a _'happy ending'_ in sight; how could there be? Saori didn't look like she was going to be diplomatic about this, and that would mean a fight, and... Seiya shook his head, unable to think; it hurt to think. He would have to follow orders, stay blank, and grieve later.

"You're still as smug as ever, aren't you?" Saori spat at Shun... _Hades, _and the Pegasus Saint couldn't say he remembered her ever to be so full of hate for an enemy, which only made matters worse, and his resolution not to think about anything stronger. Shu... Hades wasn't far behind in the spite department, though.

"Tell me, _Athena,_" Hades asked, spitting the name out, "Did you bring your armor and staff?"

This question seemed to throw Saori off-balance, because she blinked a few times in confusion before answering.

"Of course I did. You know I did. What does that have to do with..."

"Good!" Hades interrupted, with the most fake of cheers, "Now tell me, what should we do?" Seiya honestly didn't see it, didn't see the moment Hades moved from his place, but rather felt the sharp edge of a sword pressing against his throat, while an arm held him by his middle, with more than just physical strength, but also with something akin to gentleness. His eyes locked with Saori's shocked ones, almost pleading, as he realized he truly couldn't move, couldn't defend himself, and it was his best friend that had his life hanging from a very thin thread. "Should we fight and watch our loved ones die, or should we end this once and for all? And I must warn you, you better choose wisely, because I _do_ have an ace up my sleeve this time."

_**TBC**_

_**FACTS:**_

_**Pandora opened her box (it was apparently a jar, in fact) releasing all the evils on the world, and the only thing left once she closed it, was hope.**_


End file.
